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 India and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jandek. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tres Demented,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rites of Spring,
These Immortal Souls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Gang Dance,
Half Japanese,
a-ha,
Big Daddy Kane,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sight & Sound,
Fad Gadget,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Crooked Eye,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sugar Minott,
Ponytail,
Mars,
the Slits,
Derrick Morgan,
John Lydon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roy Ayers,
June of 44,
The Mojo Men,
The Raincoats,
Lower 48,
Slick Rick,
Marmalade,
Yellowson,
The Blues Magoos,
Minny Pops,
K-Klass,
Altered Images,
Porter Ricks,
Swans,
Alton Ellis,
Aaron Thompson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scan 7,
Arthur Verocai,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Byron Stingily,
Sixth Finger,
Adolescents,
Inner City,
Stetsasonic,
Sister Nancy,
The Martian,
Moby Grape,
H. Thieme,
Eric Dolphy,
Agitation Free,
Grandmaster Flash,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
OOIOO,
Goldenarms,
Rotary Connection,
Sun City Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.