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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 Television Personalities to the funk 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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Pulsallama,
R.M.O.,
Skriet,
Faraquet,
Japan,
The Dead C,
Glenn Branca,
Royal Trux,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Charles Mingus,
Dead Boys,
The Monks,
The Durutti Column,
Bob Dylan,
Fear,
The Skatalites,
Todd Terry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Spandau Ballet,
Arcadia,
Rekid,
The Mojo Men,
Gabor Szabo,
The Stooges,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Moon,
The Residents,
Junior Murvin,
The Detroit Cobras,
MC5,
Soft Cell,
Deakin,
Shuggie Otis,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Lucky Dragons,
The Standells,
David Axelrod,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Icehouse,
Bush Tetras,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dawn Penn,
Donny Hathaway,
Fort Wilson Riot,
a-ha,
U.S. Maple,
The Last Poets,
Simply Red,
Godley & Creme,
the Normal,
the Swans,
Joyce Sims,
Buzzcocks,
F. McDonald,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sonic Youth,
Gregory Isaacs,
The American Breed,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.