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 Oman and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Robert Palmer 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 Radiopuhelimet to the grime 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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
The Divine Comedy,
Lalann,
Mantronix,
Man Parrish,
The Saints,
Al Stewart,
Swell Maps,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Carl Craig,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Womack,
Howard Jones,
Gang of Four,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Chrome,
Y Pants,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Harmonia,
Marine Girls,
Wasted Youth,
The Fortunes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Robert Hood,
Zapp,
Hardrive,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minnie Riperton,
Hoover,
Nirvana,
Barrington Levy,
Quadrant,
The Angels of Light,
Scott Walker,
Junior Murvin,
Drexciya,
The Moody Blues,
John Coltrane,
Moby Grape,
Basic Channel,
Suburban Knight,
Make Up,
Rufus Thomas,
Eve St. Jones,
The Invisible,
AZ,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lou Reed,
Blancmange,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Inner City,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fluxion,
Cheater Slicks,
Jeff Lynne,
Tommy Roe,
EPMD,
Marc Almond,
Fear,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.