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 Azerbaijan and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 Absolute Body Control to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Nation of Ulysses,
Thompson Twins,
The Knickerbockers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Young Marble Giants,
Robert Hood,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ken Boothe,
The Sound,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Simply Red,
Funky Four + One,
Animal Collective,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Associates,
Cameo,
ABBA,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The United States of America,
Inner City,
Sam Rivers,
Jerry's Kids,
Joey Negro,
Vainqueur,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Scott Walker,
Lou Reed,
The Slackers,
Soulsonic Force,
Gabor Szabo,
Fluxion,
PIL,
The Saints,
Alice Coltrane,
Amon Düül,
JFA,
The Selecter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rotary Connection,
Faraquet,
Can,
Bobby Byrd,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ohio Players,
Laurel Aitken,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Index,
Sight & Sound,
Wasted Youth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Harry Pussy,
Joe Smooth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
D'Angelo,
The Young Rascals,
Tim Buckley,
Deakin,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.