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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Carl Craig to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Goldenarms,
The Motions,
The Count Five,
Ultra Naté,
Q and Not U,
Roxette,
Cheater Slicks,
Technova,
New Order,
Janne Schatter,
Gang Green,
Newcleus,
The Last Poets,
Aswad,
Absolute Body Control,
Con Funk Shun,
Soulsonic Force,
Rotary Connection,
Quadrant,
Shuggie Otis,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Whodini,
Bill Near,
The Pop Group,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobby Womack,
Gregory Isaacs,
Duran Duran,
ABC,
Black Pus,
H. Thieme,
Barry Ungar,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pussy Galore,
Zapp,
Amon Düül,
Icehouse,
Urselle,
Outsiders,
Boz Scaggs,
The American Breed,
The Tremeloes,
Mr. Review,
Von Mondo,
Y Pants,
Slave,
June Days,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ossler,
Jacob Miller,
Spoonie Gee,
Boredoms,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Selecter,
Groovy Waters,
L. Decosne,
Blossom Toes,
The Gladiators,
John Coltrane,
The Fuzztones,
Aloha Tigers,
The Victims,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.