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 China and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Sonics,
Index,
Derrick May,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Smoke,
Sight & Sound,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
John Holt,
Kevin Saunderson,
Visage,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Marmalade,
The Toasters,
Zero Boys,
Dawn Penn,
Kerrie Biddell,
Y Pants,
The Fuzztones,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yaz,
Rakim,
The Human League,
Laurel Aitken,
This Heat,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Los Fastidios,
The J.B.'s,
Lindisfarne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Adolescents,
Mo-Dettes,
The Moleskins,
Nas,
Eric Copeland,
Glenn Branca,
Aswad,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sam Rivers,
Donald Byrd,
Yazoo,
Jacob Miller,
B.T. Express,
Rod Modell,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Brand Nubian,
Pussy Galore,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rufus Thomas,
Soulsonic Force,
Roxy Music,
DNA,
The Fire Engines,
Anthony Braxton,
Graham Central Station,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
June of 44,
Neu!,
The Music Machine,
the Germs,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.