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 Kyrgyzstan and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the jazz 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Fear,
Rosa Yemen,
The Mojo Men,
Brothers Johnson,
The Cowsills,
The Detroit Cobras,
Franke,
Joe Finger,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Shadows of Knight,
Skarface,
X-Ray Spex,
Wire,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crash Course in Science,
Barbara Tucker,
Brick,
a-ha,
Funkadelic,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Delta 5,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lalann,
Robert Hood,
Fatback Band,
Vladislav Delay,
The Residents,
Erykah Badu,
Nick Fraelich,
Country Teasers,
Black Sheep,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bob Dylan,
Hashim,
Cal Tjader,
Das Ding,
The Slackers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sparks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Oblivians,
Rapeman,
The Last Poets,
Pantytec,
Peter & Gordon,
The Moleskins,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Zero Boys,
The Kinks,
Gang Starr,
K-Klass,
Brass Construction,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Deadbeat,
Harry Pussy,
Cameo,
Swell Maps,
Nas,
Morten Harket,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.