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 Korea South and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Brothers Johnson to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
EPMD,
Mission of Burma,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bill Near,
Rites of Spring,
Junior Murvin,
Kas Product,
Bush Tetras,
Quadrant,
The Smoke,
The Skatalites,
Judy Mowatt,
John Coltrane,
F. McDonald,
Jacob Miller,
Popol Vuh,
Soulsonic Force,
Sugar Minott,
Das Ding,
Eurythmics,
The Mummies,
Slave,
Unrelated Segments,
The Fugs,
David Bowie,
Patti Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fatback Band,
The Buckinghams,
Funky Four + One,
The Seeds,
Pylon,
The Kinks,
K-Klass,
New Order,
Lee Hazlewood,
Circle Jerks,
Franke,
Lou Reed,
Sex Pistols,
the Bar-Kays,
Soft Cell,
Lindisfarne,
OOIOO,
Black Pus,
Flash Fearless,
Eric B and Rakim,
Surgeon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Neu!,
Chrome,
Minutemen,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Brand Nubian,
Alison Limerick,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sixth Finger,
Blossom Toes,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.