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 Turkmenistan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro 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 Eric B and Rakim to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Icehouse,
The Busters,
Section 25,
Suburban Knight,
Eden Ahbez,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Hoover,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sun Ra,
David Bowie,
Echospace,
The Searchers,
The Misunderstood,
Scott Walker,
Matthew Halsall,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jimmy McGriff,
The New Christs,
Aaron Thompson,
Soulsonic Force,
Juan Atkins,
Scratch Acid,
Outsiders,
Nils Olav,
Boredoms,
Robert Hood,
Y Pants,
Ossler,
Joe Smooth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Radio Birdman,
Blossom Toes,
Deepchord,
KRS-One,
Scrapy,
The Fall,
Dual Sessions,
Ituana,
The Divine Comedy,
DJ Sneak,
Sam Rivers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Yellowson,
Easy Going,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bootsy Collins,
Depeche Mode,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tears for Fears,
The Fortunes,
Soul II Soul,
Laurel Aitken,
Kayak,
Wings,
Quantec,
Ten City,
Kevin Saunderson,
a-ha,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.