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 Ivory Coast and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Todd Terry,
The Beau Brummels,
Clear Light,
Ponytail,
Danielle Patucci,
Funky Four + One,
Whodini,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mantronix,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Adolescents,
Visage,
The Residents,
The Stooges,
The American Breed,
Agitation Free,
Jacques Brel,
Tommy Roe,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pantaleimon,
Main Source,
The Martian,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bronski Beat,
The Monks,
The Searchers,
Lower 48,
Sex Pistols,
Ronnie Foster,
DJ Sneak,
Lalann,
Black Pus,
Letta Mbulu,
Michelle Simonal,
Jimmy McGriff,
Malaria!,
John Coltrane,
The Standells,
Cluster,
Fatback Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ken Boothe,
Outsiders,
Gong,
Donny Hathaway,
Scion,
Barbara Tucker,
Gichy Dan,
Iggy Pop,
The Mojo Men,
The Velvet Underground,
Aural Exciters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Sheep,
H. Thieme,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.