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 Marshall Islands and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
Ice-T,
Franke,
Inner City,
Sonic Youth,
MDC,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ronan,
Donny Hathaway,
the Swans,
Smog,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ludus,
Hardrive,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Sheep,
Juan Atkins,
Barclay James Harvest,
Donald Byrd,
Clear Light,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
KRS-One,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Litter,
The Slits,
Sällskapet,
The J.B.'s,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rekid,
Qualms,
D'Angelo,
Erasure,
B.T. Express,
Bizarre Inc.,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Barracudas,
ABBA,
The Modern Lovers,
Sex Pistols,
China Crisis,
a-ha,
Crash Course in Science,
MC5,
Carl Craig,
Livin' Joy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amazonics,
Parry Music,
Joyce Sims,
Robert Görl,
Fat Boys,
Cal Tjader,
Scion,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wolf Eyes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.