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 Yemen and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 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 Aloha Tigers to the jazz 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
KRS-One,
David Axelrod,
The Leaves,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bluetip,
Angry Samoans,
Parry Music,
Wasted Youth,
Rekid,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Grauzone,
Ultimate Spinach,
Colin Newman,
The Selecter,
Kerri Chandler,
Spandau Ballet,
Pantytec,
10cc,
Yellowson,
Franke,
Lyres,
E-Dancer,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Man Parrish,
Kool Moe Dee,
Neil Young,
Popol Vuh,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Kinks,
Ponytail,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fire Engines,
Sixth Finger,
Ornette Coleman,
LL Cool J,
T. Rex,
Section 25,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tommy Roe,
The Seeds,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Detroit Cobras,
Aural Exciters,
Fear,
Bootsy Collins,
Liliput,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Scott Walker,
Robert Görl,
The Fortunes,
The Raincoats,
Circle Jerks,
Black Pus,
Howard Jones,
Leonard Cohen,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Al Stewart,
The Litter,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.