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 Suriname and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Swell Maps to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
Johnny Osbourne,
Letta Mbulu,
R.M.O.,
Soft Cell,
Slick Rick,
The Cowsills,
Hoover,
Nirvana,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Livin' Joy,
Tom Boy,
Banda Bassotti,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mars,
Symarip,
Stereo Dub,
Minnie Riperton,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Sonics,
Negative Approach,
Rod Modell,
Procol Harum,
Anthony Braxton,
T.S.O.L.,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Flash Fearless,
Tropical Tobacco,
Q65,
Angry Samoans,
The J.B.'s,
Yaz,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lightning Bolt,
Cymande,
Unrelated Segments,
Intrusion,
Con Funk Shun,
Jeff Mills,
New Age Steppers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bootsy Collins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Eddi Front,
Neil Young,
Kerri Chandler,
Liliput,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Talk Talk,
Maurizio,
H. Thieme,
The Black Dice,
kango's stein massive,
Marvin Gaye,
The Mummies,
Au Pairs,
Aaron Thompson,
Lucky Dragons,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.