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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 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 Excepter to the disco 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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Fluxion,
Animal Collective,
Slave,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Boogie Down Productions,
Arthur Verocai,
Pierre Henry,
Pylon,
The Blackbyrds,
Grey Daturas,
Crime,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Patti Smith,
Hot Snakes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pantaleimon,
The Pop Group,
Aswad,
Ronnie Foster,
EPMD,
The Monks,
The Moody Blues,
Letta Mbulu,
Fad Gadget,
KRS-One,
Mandrill,
Lou Reed,
Roxy Music,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rapeman,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Terry Callier,
Banda Bassotti,
The Divine Comedy,
Tears for Fears,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jeff Lynne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Faust,
Basic Channel,
Saccharine Trust,
Glambeats Corp.,
Minutemen,
Eric Dolphy,
Index,
Iggy Pop,
Ornette Coleman,
Reagan Youth,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Slits,
Dennis Brown,
Stiv Bators,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Delta 5,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Don Cherry,
Ultra Naté,
Peter and Kerry,
Blossom Toes,
The Cramps,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.