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 Montenegro and from Stockholm.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Minnie Riperton to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra 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 '80s 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Robert Hood,
The Toasters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Soul Sonic Force,
Junior Murvin,
Vladislav Delay,
H. Thieme,
Brand Nubian,
Depeche Mode,
Derrick May,
Cymande,
Desert Stars,
Sällskapet,
Metal Thangz,
Black Sheep,
the Slits,
Yazoo,
Arab on Radar,
Amon Düül,
Deakin,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Hoover,
Man Parrish,
Marcia Griffiths,
Iggy Pop,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brothers Johnson,
Echospace,
The Dead C,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pantytec,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Juan Atkins,
Yellowson,
Skaos,
Quando Quango,
Lou Christie,
Scott Walker,
The Monochrome Set,
Monks,
Jacques Brel,
Girls At Our Best!,
Soft Cell,
Barrington Levy,
Cheater Slicks,
John Holt,
The Saints,
B.T. Express,
Groovy Waters,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Rotary Connection,
Aswad,
Cluster,
the Human League,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.