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 Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Joey Negro,
The Dead C,
Glenn Branca,
Oblivians,
Marvin Gaye,
Duran Duran,
Letta Mbulu,
Sällskapet,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Curtis Mayfield,
Janne Schatter,
Sugar Minott,
Khruangbin,
Maleditus Sound,
The Count Five,
The Fire Engines,
Sixth Finger,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ice-T,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sex Pistols,
Lindisfarne,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Suburban Knight,
Trumans Water,
The Beau Brummels,
Bang On A Can,
Hoover,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bronski Beat,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pole,
Easy Going,
T.S.O.L.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Dorothy Ashby,
Negative Approach,
The Stooges,
Suicide,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Connie Case,
Radio Birdman,
John Holt,
Y Pants,
The Sound,
June of 44,
Loose Ends,
Bill Near,
Moss Icon,
Peter & Gordon,
Yellowson,
Terry Callier,
Mad Mike,
The Dave Clark Five,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Iggy Pop,
The Fall,
Slick Rick,
Arcadia,
Vainqueur,
John Cale,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.