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 Czech Republic and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Newcleus to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Technova,
Eddi Front,
Pole,
The Mummies,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobby Sherman,
Drive Like Jehu,
June of 44,
Thee Headcoats,
Maurizio,
Judy Mowatt,
X-101,
The Trojans,
The Busters,
Monolake,
Dawn Penn,
Bluetip,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Martian,
Soft Machine,
Cal Tjader,
Slick Rick,
Groovy Waters,
Black Sheep,
Pierre Henry,
The Angels of Light,
Black Bananas,
New Order,
The Fuzztones,
Rekid,
the Soft Cell,
Derrick May,
The Victims,
Skarface,
Wally Richardson,
the Bar-Kays,
The Smoke,
The Young Rascals,
The Tremeloes,
Minnie Riperton,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crime,
Babytalk,
Hardrive,
48th St. Collective,
Clear Light,
Eurythmics,
Inner City,
Shoche,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Drexciya,
Ronnie Foster,
Big Daddy Kane,
Oblivians,
Minny Pops,
Fatback Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fire Engines,
Gabor Szabo,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.