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 Croatia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Boredoms to the jazz 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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Cecil Taylor,
The Leaves,
Reuben Wilson,
Arcadia,
Lakeside,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rakim,
Eric Dolphy,
Unwound,
The Five Americans,
Infiniti,
Moby Grape,
Excepter,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Davy DMX,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
LL Cool J,
Graham Central Station,
The Sonics,
Bush Tetras,
The Stooges,
The Remains,
Wolf Eyes,
Chris & Cosey,
The Gladiators,
The Wake,
Chrome,
The Grass Roots,
KRS-One,
Robert Hood,
Porter Ricks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nik Kershaw,
The Kinks,
The Electric Prunes,
Sun City Girls,
Slave,
Frankie Knuckles,
Connie Case,
Thee Headcoats,
Sixth Finger,
Shuggie Otis,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Zero Boys,
Donny Hathaway,
June of 44,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tres Demented,
Monks,
Suicide,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Moody Blues,
Cameo,
Fugazi,
Fat Boys,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Blancmange,
Bobby Byrd,
Iggy Pop,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.