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 Russia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Marshall Jefferson 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 The Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Cymande,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Mo-Dettes,
The Move,
Nirvana,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sound Behaviour,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ken Boothe,
the Human League,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Big Daddy Kane,
Niagra,
The Sound,
Tears for Fears,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Sonics,
Quadrant,
Dawn Penn,
The Vogues,
World's Most,
Ash Ra Tempel,
X-Ray Spex,
Hashim,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Young Marble Giants,
Swans,
Negative Approach,
Cecil Taylor,
Shuggie Otis,
Oblivians,
The Tremeloes,
Aloha Tigers,
Darondo,
Underground Resistance,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Matthew Bourne,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Velvet Underground,
Scion,
Lakeside,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Mojo Men,
Brand Nubian,
Gerry Rafferty,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Davy DMX,
The Dave Clark Five,
Model 500,
Deadbeat,
Rufus Thomas,
Rod Modell,
kango's stein massive,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Royal Trux,
David McCallum,
Blake Baxter,
John Coltrane,
Joensuu 1685,
Unrelated Segments,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.