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 Iraq and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Red Krayola,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Masters at Work,
The Move,
The Leaves,
The Victims,
Guru Guru,
Kenny Larkin,
A Certain Ratio,
Todd Rundgren,
Leonard Cohen,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Dirtbombs,
X-101,
Black Bananas,
New Age Steppers,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Litter,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Dead C,
Aswad,
Alice Coltrane,
Qualms,
The Saints,
T. Rex,
Gichy Dan,
Minny Pops,
Zero Boys,
Pole,
John Lydon,
Rotary Connection,
Crime,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Golliwogs,
Boredoms,
10cc,
The Invisible,
Crooked Eye,
the Association,
Scientists,
The Monks,
Gang Green,
Black Sheep,
Los Fastidios,
Danielle Patucci,
Tommy Roe,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lalann,
The Techniques,
Mr. Review,
Byron Stingily,
Franke,
Mo-Dettes,
Agent Orange,
Das Ding,
The Evens,
Davy DMX,
Ken Boothe,
Donald Byrd,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.