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 Croatia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Chrome to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Michelle Simonal,
Wire,
Crispy Ambulance,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Interpol,
Maurizio,
Essential Logic,
Barrington Levy,
Sällskapet,
Oblivians,
The Saints,
D'Angelo,
Yusef Lateef,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lindisfarne,
Josef K,
Piero Umiliani,
Organ,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Absolute Body Control,
Crash Course in Science,
Tim Buckley,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Maleditus Sound,
Lucky Dragons,
H. Thieme,
Trumans Water,
Delon & Dalcan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Black Flag,
Janne Schatter,
Chris Corsano,
Isaac Hayes,
John Lydon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dark Day,
Moss Icon,
Althea and Donna,
The Dirtbombs,
The United States of America,
Minutemen,
Soul II Soul,
Mantronix,
Lungfish,
The Offenders,
The Sound,
Negative Approach,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Swell Maps,
The Gap Band,
Main Source,
Minny Pops,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Second Layer,
The Angels of Light,
48th St. Collective,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roxette,
The Modern Lovers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.