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 Sri Lanka and from Spokane.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Big Daddy Kane to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Max Romeo,
Oneida,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mantronix,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kenny Larkin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Shuggie Otis,
X-102,
Avey Tare,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kas Product,
Stetsasonic,
Jawbox,
Eve St. Jones,
Dawn Penn,
Blancmange,
Terry Callier,
Niagra,
Severed Heads,
DJ Style,
Freddie Wadling,
Saccharine Trust,
The Mummies,
Sun Ra,
The Smiths,
Nils Olav,
Chris & Cosey,
Slave,
Matthew Bourne,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Vladislav Delay,
Trumans Water,
Y Pants,
Skarface,
Schoolly D,
Lucky Dragons,
MC5,
Funky Four + One,
Anthony Braxton,
Steve Hackett,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Japan,
Scientists,
Skaos,
The Detroit Cobras,
Albert Ayler,
Altered Images,
Laurel Aitken,
the Normal,
Technova,
June Days,
Sun City Girls,
Susan Cadogan,
The Sound,
Los Fastidios,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Last Poets,
Ten City,
Pole,
The Toasters,
10cc,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.