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 Pakistan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Fela Kuti to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalo Schifrin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
OOIOO,
Bronski Beat,
The Knickerbockers,
Swans,
Wolf Eyes,
DJ Sneak,
Jeff Lynne,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Velvet Underground,
Whodini,
X-101,
Kerri Chandler,
The Smiths,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scrapy,
Connie Case,
Dark Day,
The Raincoats,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Scan 7,
Royal Trux,
Groovy Waters,
Arab on Radar,
The Fire Engines,
Funky Four + One,
Nik Kershaw,
The Happenings,
The Fuzztones,
KRS-One,
Gang of Four,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Sheep,
David McCallum,
Gil Scott Heron,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Easy Going,
Laurel Aitken,
Dorothy Ashby,
Make Up,
Crooked Eye,
Erykah Badu,
Technova,
Subhumans,
Ronan,
Ornette Coleman,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
ABC,
Yaz,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ohio Players,
Moby Grape,
Flipper,
Sparks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joe Finger,
Cybotron,
Scratch Acid,
Tres Demented,
The Music Machine,
Brothers Johnson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.