Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Panama and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Mandrill to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lungfish,
Patti Smith,
H. Thieme,
Erasure,
Davy DMX,
MC5,
Roger Hodgson,
Fluxion,
Harry Pussy,
Stetsasonic,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tim Buckley,
Eurythmics,
Barrington Levy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fatback Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Quantec,
the Bar-Kays,
Dennis Brown,
Donny Hathaway,
Deepchord,
Bootsy Collins,
The Dirtbombs,
Section 25,
Tubeway Army,
FM Einheit,
Stockholm Monsters,
Absolute Body Control,
Roy Ayers,
Public Enemy,
Reuben Wilson,
David Bowie,
Fear,
Fat Boys,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Womack,
In Retrospect,
John Coltrane,
Sun Ra,
Circle Jerks,
Suicide,
Rosa Yemen,
The Moody Blues,
David Axelrod,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Funky Four + One,
Black Flag,
Intrusion,
Slick Rick,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soft Cell,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bluetip,
A Certain Ratio,
The Toasters,
Malaria!,
Q and Not U,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.