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 Namibia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jeru the Damaja to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Velvet Underground,
Lucky Dragons,
X-Ray Spex,
Slave,
Matthew Bourne,
Wally Richardson,
The Leaves,
Hot Snakes,
Malaria!,
The J.B.'s,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Roxette,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Toasters,
Das Ding,
Juan Atkins,
Gichy Dan,
Pole,
Agitation Free,
Nirvana,
Vladislav Delay,
Faust,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Remains,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nils Olav,
Soul Sonic Force,
Niagra,
Surgeon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harpers Bizarre,
Leonard Cohen,
Magazine,
Khruangbin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joey Negro,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Unrelated Segments,
The Stooges,
The Pretty Things,
Bootsy Collins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Neu!,
Silicon Teens,
The Cramps,
The Count Five,
Barry Ungar,
Tres Demented,
World's Most,
Yellowson,
Mantronix,
Bobby Byrd,
Hashim,
Tropical Tobacco,
Con Funk Shun,
Reagan Youth,
The Sound,
Second Layer,
Massinfluence,
Clear Light,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.