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 Afghanistan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Todd Terry to the punk 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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tres Demented,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Procol Harum,
The Cure,
EPMD,
The Happenings,
Kevin Saunderson,
Essential Logic,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ten City,
LL Cool J,
The Mummies,
David Axelrod,
Rakim,
Gregory Isaacs,
Derrick May,
John Foxx,
Groovy Waters,
Rosa Yemen,
Black Flag,
Eric Copeland,
R.M.O.,
Lyres,
Cheater Slicks,
Derrick Morgan,
James White and The Blacks,
Amon Düül II,
Unrelated Segments,
David Bowie,
Kenny Larkin,
Tubeway Army,
Swans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Goldenarms,
Smog,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Busters,
Jerry's Kids,
Niagra,
Skarface,
Theoretical Girls,
Black Bananas,
Underground Resistance,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Los Fastidios,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Oblivians,
JFA,
DNA,
The Misunderstood,
The Techniques,
Crispian St. Peters,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pierre Henry,
Public Enemy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.