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 Liberia and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Spoonie Gee to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 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 R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
Minny Pops,
Soul II Soul,
The Monks,
The Gap Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Altered Images,
Television,
K-Klass,
Marine Girls,
Nick Fraelich,
Marmalade,
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Flag,
The Smiths,
John Lydon,
Nirvana,
Chris & Cosey,
The Beau Brummels,
Sexual Harrassment,
Masters at Work,
Radio Birdman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ash Ra Tempel,
ABC,
Josef K,
Hardrive,
Reuben Wilson,
kango's stein massive,
Nas,
The Real Kids,
Bootsy Collins,
Peter and Kerry,
Mandrill,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Residents,
The Shadows of Knight,
Max Romeo,
Donny Hathaway,
Subhumans,
Faraquet,
Kevin Saunderson,
Glenn Branca,
Ituana,
The Fortunes,
Buzzcocks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Flipper,
Crispy Ambulance,
Outsiders,
Sparks,
Barrington Levy,
Johnny Osbourne,
David Bowie,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Frankie Knuckles,
Circle Jerks,
The Techniques,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Divine Comedy,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.