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 India and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
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 snare 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 Procol Harum to the punk 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
D'Angelo,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rufus Thomas,
Kerri Chandler,
Minutemen,
Frankie Knuckles,
Zero Boys,
The Pretty Things,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Sound,
the Sonics,
Make Up,
The Red Krayola,
Letta Mbulu,
Bobby Sherman,
Blake Baxter,
DNA,
Intrusion,
The Birthday Party,
Von Mondo,
Radiopuhelimet,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Fuzztones,
Scratch Acid,
The Modern Lovers,
The Slits,
Masters at Work,
Lebanon Hanover,
Soul II Soul,
The Doors,
Eric Dolphy,
Public Enemy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dennis Brown,
Dead Boys,
UT,
China Crisis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jeff Mills,
the Fania All-Stars,
Buzzcocks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Heaven 17,
Q65,
Aural Exciters,
Half Japanese,
Deepchord,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Boredoms,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Skatalites,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marvin Gaye,
E-Dancer,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
KRS-One,
Glambeats Corp.,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.