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 Dominican Republic and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 Scientists to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Morten Harket,
Ken Boothe,
Metal Thangz,
Severed Heads,
Cal Tjader,
Parry Music,
The Sound,
Roger Hodgson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Section 25,
Skarface,
The Associates,
Gichy Dan,
Ohio Players,
Talk Talk,
Hoover,
The Stooges,
Sun City Girls,
Pantytec,
AZ,
Erasure,
Alphaville,
Fear,
China Crisis,
Heaven 17,
Animal Collective,
Magma,
Sonic Youth,
Brothers Johnson,
Sex Pistols,
Outsiders,
The Selecter,
Y Pants,
Qualms,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Gap Band,
This Heat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Vainqueur,
D'Angelo,
Malaria!,
Wasted Youth,
Altered Images,
MDC,
The Monochrome Set,
Dawn Penn,
The Misunderstood,
Rotary Connection,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wire,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mary Jane Girls,
Guru Guru,
The Knickerbockers,
Josef K,
The Doobie Brothers,
Howard Jones,
Kurtis Blow,
Nation of Ulysses,
Yellowson,
The United States of America,
Black Sheep,
The Litter,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.