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 Oman and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 snare 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 Drive Like Jehu to the disco 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Crime,
Wasted Youth,
Pet Shop Boys,
Harry Pussy,
Heaven 17,
Crash Course in Science,
Maleditus Sound,
Radio Birdman,
The Durutti Column,
Malaria!,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Shuggie Otis,
Cheater Slicks,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fire Engines,
Flash Fearless,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Sound,
The Moody Blues,
Q and Not U,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Smiths,
Liliput,
Crispy Ambulance,
Brand Nubian,
Idris Muhammad,
The Buckinghams,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sam Rivers,
Simply Red,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scion,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Sheep,
Cecil Taylor,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pussy Galore,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ken Boothe,
Rekid,
Outsiders,
Cluster,
Cybotron,
New Age Steppers,
Piero Umiliani,
Radiohead,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Stockholm Monsters,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Black Bananas,
Soul II Soul,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Association,
Fugazi,
Wings,
Circle Jerks,
Bobby Womack,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.