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 Australia and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Matthew Halsall,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
X-Ray Spex,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kas Product,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fuzztones,
Suicide,
The Doors,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Depeche Mode,
Country Teasers,
Visage,
The Fugs,
The Pop Group,
Crooked Eye,
Lee Hazlewood,
Blancmange,
Don Cherry,
Sun Ra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Black Flag,
Junior Murvin,
The Human League,
Faust,
Desert Stars,
The Index,
Cymande,
Eric Dolphy,
Shoche,
Matthew Bourne,
David Bowie,
A Certain Ratio,
Technova,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Section 25,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scratch Acid,
Tears for Fears,
The Techniques,
Jawbox,
Moby Grape,
The Gories,
New York Dolls,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Wake,
Mantronix,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Yaz,
The Victims,
Parry Music,
John Lydon,
Con Funk Shun,
Organ,
The Red Krayola,
Curtis Mayfield,
Easy Going,
Cybotron,
Letta Mbulu,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.