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 Dominican Republic and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Crash Course in Science to the electroclash 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marmalade,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Spoonie Gee,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Skatalites,
Sister Nancy,
Ossler,
Magma,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
JFA,
Sarah Menescal,
Jacques Brel,
Tomorrow,
Black Pus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Silicon Teens,
Interpol,
John Coltrane,
Wally Richardson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kas Product,
Soft Machine,
Drexciya,
Ronan,
Deadbeat,
The Stooges,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lindisfarne,
The Golliwogs,
Country Teasers,
Blake Baxter,
Darondo,
Panda Bear,
Los Fastidios,
Intrusion,
Tom Boy,
Qualms,
Don Cherry,
Sam Rivers,
The Litter,
The Divine Comedy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Neil Young,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Martian,
the Normal,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Durutti Column,
Stereo Dub,
Derrick May,
Public Enemy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eve St. Jones,
Ice-T,
The Fall,
Can,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.