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 United Kingdom and from Taipei.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Frankie Knuckles to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sixth Finger,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Derrick May,
Pagans,
the Sonics,
Make Up,
Nick Fraelich,
The Mojo Men,
The Gun Club,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sight & Sound,
Black Pus,
Second Layer,
Jacob Miller,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dorothy Ashby,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scan 7,
Soft Machine,
Rhythm & Sound,
Heaven 17,
JFA,
Flipper,
Gastr Del Sol,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ponytail,
F. McDonald,
Hashim,
Wings,
Chrome,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mo-Dettes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tears for Fears,
Altered Images,
The Standells,
Gerry Rafferty,
Josef K,
Gong,
The Happenings,
The Motions,
The Flesh Eaters,
Vainqueur,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fela Kuti,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Erasure,
The Gap Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mad Mike,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Coltrane,
Marvin Gaye,
Pulsallama,
Blake Baxter,
Ronan,
Buzzcocks,
Idris Muhammad,
Hoover,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.