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 Guyana and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Philadelphia.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gang Starr to the grime 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Clear Light,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Audionom,
Suicide,
Fat Boys,
Moebius,
L. Decosne,
X-Ray Spex,
Intrusion,
Inner City,
Swell Maps,
MDC,
Minny Pops,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Slave,
Anakelly,
Anthony Braxton,
Slick Rick,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Neon Judgement,
Youth Brigade,
John Holt,
Boz Scaggs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Chris & Cosey,
Fluxion,
Matthew Halsall,
MC5,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Vladislav Delay,
Sexual Harrassment,
In Retrospect,
The Stooges,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cluster,
Khruangbin,
Kayak,
Hashim,
Roger Hodgson,
Joensuu 1685,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
X-102,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tom Boy,
Gang Green,
the Germs,
Ultimate Spinach,
Roy Ayers,
The Tremeloes,
Ponytail,
Eurythmics,
Barrington Levy,
H. Thieme,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Maleditus Sound,
Electric Prunes,
Neil Young,
Ituana,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.