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 Fiji and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ken Boothe to the rap 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Organ,
The Martian,
Slave,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bluetip,
Todd Rundgren,
Pierre Henry,
Marc Almond,
A Certain Ratio,
Radiohead,
June Days,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hashim,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Intrusion,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cluster,
X-102,
UT,
Parry Music,
Deadbeat,
Harry Pussy,
Avey Tare,
Vainqueur,
The Fortunes,
Byron Stingily,
Marcia Griffiths,
Chris Corsano,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gang of Four,
Qualms,
Mars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marine Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Dennis Brown,
Arthur Verocai,
Ronnie Foster,
Bush Tetras,
Jeff Lynne,
Loose Ends,
Popol Vuh,
Chris & Cosey,
Gabor Szabo,
Hasil Adkins,
Y Pants,
Au Pairs,
Von Mondo,
Soul II Soul,
Robert Hood,
Agitation Free,
the Association,
Ornette Coleman,
Bob Dylan,
June of 44,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fat Boys,
Idris Muhammad,
Grey Daturas,
Cybotron,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.