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 Bolivia and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin 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 The Smoke to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Rod Modell,
Joey Negro,
Ituana,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lindisfarne,
Liliput,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roxy Music,
Amazonics,
The Saints,
The Techniques,
Soft Machine,
June of 44,
The Names,
Bluetip,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Bar-Kays,
Agent Orange,
The Fortunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
New Age Steppers,
Andrew Hill,
Robert Görl,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Gap Band,
Boz Scaggs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Visage,
Newcleus,
Gang Gang Dance,
Maurizio,
H. Thieme,
Mars,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Second Layer,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Neon Judgement,
Joe Smooth,
the Normal,
Barrington Levy,
Young Marble Giants,
Crispian St. Peters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jandek,
The Grass Roots,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sister Nancy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crooked Eye,
Fear,
Anthony Braxton,
Johnny Clarke,
The Mummies,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Blancmange,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Arthur Verocai,
Barbara Tucker,
Unrelated Segments,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes.
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.