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 Somalia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Marshall Jefferson to the rap 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Siglo XX,
David Bowie,
Crash Course in Science,
Amazonics,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
John Holt,
The Smiths,
Pylon,
Godley & Creme,
Angry Samoans,
Quantec,
Liliput,
Arab on Radar,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Slick Rick,
Mo-Dettes,
The Dead C,
Masters at Work,
Gang Green,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sight & Sound,
Sixth Finger,
Heaven 17,
The Remains,
Quadrant,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bill Wells,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Curtis Mayfield,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Supertramp,
The Gap Band,
Newcleus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Minnie Riperton,
Deadbeat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lalo Schifrin,
Panda Bear,
Scion,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Dirtbombs,
Don Cherry,
Joyce Sims,
Eli Mardock,
Frankie Knuckles,
Grandmaster Flash,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Todd Terry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
DJ Sneak,
Cheater Slicks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
MDC,
Anthony Braxton,
Nick Fraelich,
The Standells,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.