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 Netherlands and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 theremin 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 Bobby Sherman to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Outsiders,
John Coltrane,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Alarm Clocks,
Angry Samoans,
The Monochrome Set,
The Selecter,
Ultravox,
The Count Five,
X-Ray Spex,
Severed Heads,
The Toasters,
Wally Richardson,
David Bowie,
Nirvana,
John Lydon,
Amon Düül,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Laurel Aitken,
Saccharine Trust,
Kayak,
Wings,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crime,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Motorama,
Erykah Badu,
LL Cool J,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lyres,
Spandau Ballet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Iggy Pop,
The Sonics,
the Slits,
Junior Murvin,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Monks,
Youth Brigade,
Cheater Slicks,
Kaleidoscope,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Livin' Joy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Dave Clark Five,
Popol Vuh,
D'Angelo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gang Starr,
Al Stewart,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Doors,
Excepter,
Bang On A Can,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Red Krayola,
The Litter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Slackers,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.