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 Rwanda and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Public Image Ltd. to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Jeru the Damaja,
Archie Shepp,
Fat Boys,
Radio Birdman,
The Kinks,
Organ,
Marine Girls,
Cecil Taylor,
Qualms,
Theoretical Girls,
Joe Smooth,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Quadrant,
Joey Negro,
Derrick May,
Roxette,
Lebanon Hanover,
Judy Mowatt,
Harmonia,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Moss Icon,
cv313,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Soft Machine,
Crispian St. Peters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Supertramp,
Hoover,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Simply Red,
Q65,
Godley & Creme,
Subhumans,
The Cowsills,
Soft Cell,
Matthew Bourne,
Ken Boothe,
The Cure,
Kaleidoscope,
Circle Jerks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Altered Images,
Newcleus,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Gun Club,
Max Romeo,
PIL,
Rufus Thomas,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Andrew Hill,
Fela Kuti,
The Evens,
Ponytail,
Slick Rick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Janne Schatter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Last Poets,
Rapeman,
The United States of America,
Rekid,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.