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 Slovenia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Subhumans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Surgeon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Niagra,
B.T. Express,
Stiv Bators,
Tears for Fears,
Rosa Yemen,
Underground Resistance,
Cybotron,
The Neon Judgement,
Harpers Bizarre,
Adolescents,
Nick Fraelich,
Eve St. Jones,
The Sound,
Big Daddy Kane,
MDC,
Aaron Thompson,
The Seeds,
Grandmaster Flash,
Brick,
Electric Prunes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mantronix,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Swans,
Absolute Body Control,
Man Parrish,
Y Pants,
Suburban Knight,
Eden Ahbez,
James White and The Blacks,
Zero Boys,
Crime,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gabor Szabo,
Public Enemy,
Sound Behaviour,
Sex Pistols,
Sun Ra,
The Last Poets,
Radiopuhelimet,
Reuben Wilson,
Oneida,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gong,
Ultravox,
The Star Department,
Model 500,
X-102,
Minny Pops,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Desert Stars,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Neil Young,
The Barracudas,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Duran Duran,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.