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 Barbados and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sexual Harrassment to the jazz 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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Eden Ahbez,
Absolute Body Control,
The Monochrome Set,
Hasil Adkins,
Robert Hood,
Quando Quango,
Aural Exciters,
Warsaw,
Amon Düül,
Excepter,
Babytalk,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gregory Isaacs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rufus Thomas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Durutti Column,
Colin Newman,
Camberwell Now,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dead Boys,
Marc Almond,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ludus,
Harry Pussy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eric Copeland,
Slick Rick,
Roxy Music,
Lou Reed,
Hoover,
Tomorrow,
John Coltrane,
Joe Finger,
John Lydon,
Pantaleimon,
Massinfluence,
John Foxx,
Marine Girls,
Patti Smith,
This Heat,
The Mojo Men,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
CMW,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Gastr Del Sol,
Y Pants,
The Fuzztones,
Severed Heads,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bill Wells,
Skarface,
The Music Machine,
Beasts of Bourbon,
LL Cool J,
Von Mondo,
Q and Not U,
Robert Görl,
The Vogues,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.