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 Eritrea and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Roy Ayers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
The Monochrome Set,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Loose Ends,
Interpol,
Rufus Thomas,
Fatback Band,
ABC,
Dead Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Cluster,
Donny Hathaway,
Patti Smith,
Ultra Naté,
Traffic Nightmare,
DNA,
The American Breed,
Chris & Cosey,
Janne Schatter,
Visage,
The Seeds,
Reagan Youth,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wire,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Easy Going,
Malaria!,
Curtis Mayfield,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Pretty Things,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Charles Mingus,
Brothers Johnson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Second Layer,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wings,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Moon,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scott Walker,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Martian,
Anakelly,
Tomorrow,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fat Boys,
Arab on Radar,
Black Pus,
Bluetip,
Erykah Badu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pierre Henry,
Quantec,
Derrick May,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eric Dolphy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Selecter,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.