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 Albania and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the grime 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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Popol Vuh,
Rites of Spring,
Pantaleimon,
Magazine,
Amazonics,
The J.B.'s,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Litter,
The Smoke,
The Skatalites,
Harpers Bizarre,
Half Japanese,
Skaos,
Tom Boy,
Roxette,
Pulsallama,
Ultra Naté,
Mo-Dettes,
Duran Duran,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fatback Band,
Ten City,
Wally Richardson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Slick Rick,
Mars,
Agitation Free,
Ponytail,
Heaven 17,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Mojo Men,
The American Breed,
Matthew Halsall,
Angry Samoans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Byron Stingily,
MDC,
Nils Olav,
Supertramp,
Derrick Morgan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Scientists,
The New Christs,
Zero Boys,
D'Angelo,
Eric Copeland,
Jacques Brel,
The Fortunes,
Sister Nancy,
Schoolly D,
Sandy B,
Wolf Eyes,
Cameo,
The Cowsills,
The Invisible,
Parry Music,
Bill Wells,
Frankie Knuckles,
Deakin,
Crooked Eye,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.