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 Nigeria and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 Philadelphia and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 LL Cool J to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Severed Heads,
The Moleskins,
Swans,
Talk Talk,
Oblivians,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tim Buckley,
Idris Muhammad,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camberwell Now,
Ultra Naté,
The Saints,
The Gories,
Yazoo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Erasure,
Goldenarms,
The Grass Roots,
Slick Rick,
Swell Maps,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Names,
The Blackbyrds,
Albert Ayler,
The Dead C,
Unrelated Segments,
Gang Starr,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Basic Channel,
Essential Logic,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sonny Sharrock,
Piero Umiliani,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sugar Minott,
Sound Behaviour,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minny Pops,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ronan,
Ossler,
Crash Course in Science,
Cecil Taylor,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Real Kids,
X-101,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Pretty Things,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wasted Youth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eve St. Jones,
cv313,
Con Funk Shun,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.