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 Suriname and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Masters at Work to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Chrome,
The Angels of Light,
Marshall Jefferson,
Max Romeo,
Drexciya,
Joe Smooth,
Girls At Our Best!,
Monks,
Spandau Ballet,
Brass Construction,
T.S.O.L.,
Ohio Players,
The Fire Engines,
Maleditus Sound,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Modern Lovers,
Talk Talk,
The Stooges,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Carl Craig,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roxy Music,
The Victims,
Moss Icon,
Lee Hazlewood,
MC5,
Intrusion,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
K-Klass,
Wasted Youth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soft Cell,
Bill Near,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Infiniti,
The Divine Comedy,
Audionom,
H. Thieme,
Soul II Soul,
Aloha Tigers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bobby Womack,
Rufus Thomas,
Sun Ra,
The Five Americans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wolf Eyes,
Stereo Dub,
the Association,
The Techniques,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crooked Eye,
Urselle,
Main Source,
Man Parrish,
B.T. Express,
Minny Pops,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jeru the Damaja,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.