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 Spain and from Bologna.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Sonic Youth to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
the Normal,
Wolf Eyes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gabor Szabo,
The Cramps,
Flipper,
Jawbox,
Judy Mowatt,
Quando Quango,
Los Fastidios,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
KRS-One,
Skaos,
The Monks,
PIL,
Pantytec,
Lindisfarne,
Bobby Womack,
Aloha Tigers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bluetip,
Rekid,
Mars,
Gang Starr,
Rotary Connection,
Roxy Music,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Slave,
The Grass Roots,
Scrapy,
Lou Christie,
The Evens,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scan 7,
Blancmange,
The Smiths,
Robert Wyatt,
The Last Poets,
Brand Nubian,
Sam Rivers,
F. McDonald,
Ice-T,
Magma,
Motorama,
Crooked Eye,
Scientists,
Fad Gadget,
Little Man,
The Sound,
The Zeros,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soulsonic Force,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fela Kuti,
Johnny Clarke,
The Star Department,
Kurtis Blow,
Fear,
Basic Channel,
Kevin Saunderson,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.