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 Samoa and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin 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 The Tremeloes to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Robert Hood,
James Chance & The Contortions,
JFA,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ken Boothe,
Massinfluence,
La Düsseldorf,
Severed Heads,
Minor Threat,
Liliput,
Sandy B,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Red Krayola,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ten City,
The Star Department,
The Associates,
Judy Mowatt,
Eve St. Jones,
Junior Murvin,
Scratch Acid,
Black Bananas,
Piero Umiliani,
Banda Bassotti,
Jacob Miller,
The Offenders,
Morten Harket,
Reagan Youth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Supertramp,
John Cale,
Newcleus,
The Fugs,
Minny Pops,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joey Negro,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brothers Johnson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gang Green,
The Neon Judgement,
The Techniques,
Lalann,
Simply Red,
Desert Stars,
New Age Steppers,
Barbara Tucker,
Qualms,
Youth Brigade,
EPMD,
Groovy Waters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rotary Connection,
Stiv Bators,
The Monks,
Blossom Toes,
Colin Newman,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.