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 Antigua and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Winnipeg.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Cluster to the dance 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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
The Trojans,
Pantytec,
Supertramp,
Maurizio,
Sexual Harrassment,
Spoonie Gee,
Brand Nubian,
Crooked Eye,
Deakin,
Minnie Riperton,
Rites of Spring,
Hashim,
Lalann,
The Dirtbombs,
Shuggie Otis,
One Last Wish,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Schoolly D,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ten City,
Half Japanese,
Sugar Minott,
Index,
Mr. Review,
Andrew Hill,
Inner City,
Barrington Levy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pussy Galore,
Juan Atkins,
Donny Hathaway,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
JFA,
David McCallum,
Morten Harket,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Al Stewart,
John Coltrane,
The Kinks,
The American Breed,
Danielle Patucci,
The Modern Lovers,
The Five Americans,
Newcleus,
UT,
The United States of America,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marmalade,
Wasted Youth,
Symarip,
Dead Boys,
Sällskapet,
Moby Grape,
L. Decosne,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
ABC,
Ronnie Foster,
Trumans Water,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.