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 Cape Verde and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sun City Girls to the funk 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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Swans,
Arthur Verocai,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mad Mike,
The Black Dice,
John Cale,
Pussy Galore,
Boz Scaggs,
Arab on Radar,
Connie Case,
the Normal,
Cameo,
Toni Rubio,
Matthew Halsall,
Susan Cadogan,
Alison Limerick,
The Angels of Light,
The Fire Engines,
Radio Birdman,
Gichy Dan,
Can,
The Wake,
Mandrill,
Nils Olav,
Mark Hollis,
Groovy Waters,
Idris Muhammad,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lou Reed,
the Human League,
Cal Tjader,
Scratch Acid,
Juan Atkins,
Carl Craig,
Camouflage,
Ludus,
Wolf Eyes,
Tres Demented,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Dirtbombs,
Joe Finger,
Schoolly D,
Tears for Fears,
Monolake,
Masters at Work,
Funky Four + One,
E-Dancer,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Young Rascals,
Marine Girls,
Don Cherry,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
K-Klass,
La Düsseldorf,
The Gories,
Big Daddy Kane,
Inner City,
Althea and Donna,
Index,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.