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 Uganda and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 KRS-One to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
The Cure,
Max Romeo,
The Dirtbombs,
Hot Snakes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gong,
Fat Boys,
DJ Sneak,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Smiths,
Harmonia,
Symarip,
Visage,
Zero Boys,
The Golliwogs,
Wolf Eyes,
Davy DMX,
Quando Quango,
Eric Dolphy,
Duran Duran,
Don Cherry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alphaville,
Wally Richardson,
The Sonics,
Stiv Bators,
Soulsonic Force,
Lightning Bolt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Avey Tare,
The Tremeloes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jacob Miller,
Mary Jane Girls,
Whodini,
Babytalk,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rakim,
KRS-One,
Qualms,
Simply Red,
Brand Nubian,
Bobby Byrd,
The Stooges,
Alice Coltrane,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Erasure,
Stetsasonic,
Bauhaus,
Section 25,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rekid,
The Gladiators,
A Certain Ratio,
Chris Corsano,
Prince Buster,
Aural Exciters,
Sandy B,
Ornette Coleman,
The Vogues,
The Monochrome Set,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.