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 Czech Republic and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Milan.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Outsiders to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a synthesizer 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 marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
The Kinks,
Boredoms,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
10cc,
Flipper,
Sex Pistols,
Ohio Players,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Invisible,
Sandy B,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dennis Brown,
Audionom,
The Gap Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kaleidoscope,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lightning Bolt,
Malaria!,
Bobby Byrd,
The Electric Prunes,
Lalann,
Q65,
R.M.O.,
Rapeman,
Joensuu 1685,
Desert Stars,
It's A Beautiful Day,
T.S.O.L.,
Rod Modell,
Jeff Lynne,
Pulsallama,
Das Ding,
Simply Red,
Lou Christie,
Camberwell Now,
kango's stein massive,
Depeche Mode,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Golliwogs,
Fat Boys,
Quantec,
Vladislav Delay,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Suburban Knight,
Jeff Mills,
Ten City,
Lakeside,
Brand Nubian,
Television,
Scan 7,
Gang Green,
Monolake,
MDC,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brothers Johnson,
Patti Smith,
Nick Fraelich,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.