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 Micronesia 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Kas Product to the dance 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
48th St. Collective,
Matthew Halsall,
Roxette,
Chris Corsano,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scientists,
Roger Hodgson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rod Modell,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fear,
AZ,
Girls At Our Best!,
Blancmange,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lou Christie,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Names,
The Neon Judgement,
Laurel Aitken,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Saints,
Mark Hollis,
Anakelly,
Technova,
X-101,
Sexual Harrassment,
Donald Byrd,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Harmonia,
Yazoo,
Black Moon,
Altered Images,
Rekid,
Surgeon,
the Germs,
Livin' Joy,
Carl Craig,
Graham Central Station,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Subhumans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deepchord,
Siglo XX,
Dennis Brown,
Todd Terry,
Television,
Groovy Waters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Robert Hood,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Last Poets,
Todd Rundgren,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Smiths,
Toni Rubio,
Kevin Saunderson,
Brick,
The Shadows of Knight,
Soul II Soul,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.