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 United States and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ 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 Eric B and Rakim to the disco 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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
The Tremeloes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Con Funk Shun,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
a-ha,
the Association,
Interpol,
Lyres,
Flipper,
Monolake,
Masters at Work,
Wolf Eyes,
Slave,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pole,
Pantytec,
The Red Krayola,
Derrick May,
Agent Orange,
Howard Jones,
Quantec,
Josef K,
The Five Americans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Hasil Adkins,
Arcadia,
The Smoke,
Brass Construction,
CMW,
Laurel Aitken,
Deakin,
Delon & Dalcan,
Au Pairs,
Gichy Dan,
La Düsseldorf,
Bill Near,
Robert Hood,
Bad Manners,
Lungfish,
Gong,
Archie Shepp,
Cameo,
Morten Harket,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jacques Brel,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bobby Womack,
Drexciya,
Terry Callier,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Half Japanese,
Gang of Four,
The Techniques,
Nils Olav,
Buzzcocks,
Matthew Bourne,
Technova,
Index,
Skriet,
Iggy Pop,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Leaves,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.