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 Singapore and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Selecter to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Five Americans,
Eden Ahbez,
The Names,
The Count Five,
Sarah Menescal,
Don Cherry,
Hot Snakes,
Tubeway Army,
Derrick Morgan,
Ohio Players,
Dorothy Ashby,
Alphaville,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Associates,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Boredoms,
Fugazi,
Charles Mingus,
Toni Rubio,
D'Angelo,
Excepter,
Faraquet,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Techniques,
Animal Collective,
Kayak,
Japan,
the Germs,
the Bar-Kays,
Cameo,
KRS-One,
Throbbing Gristle,
Goldenarms,
Moebius,
The Dave Clark Five,
Marvin Gaye,
Pole,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
X-102,
Pierre Henry,
Fat Boys,
Bush Tetras,
Vainqueur,
Quantec,
Rekid,
Nik Kershaw,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
John Holt,
Judy Mowatt,
Kaleidoscope,
E-Dancer,
The Neon Judgement,
Sight & Sound,
Donny Hathaway,
Johnny Osbourne,
Minny Pops,
Eric Copeland,
Pussy Galore,
Fad Gadget,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lightning Bolt,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.