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 Pakistan and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 DJ Sneak to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lower 48,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Heaven 17,
Pere Ubu,
Pylon,
Camberwell Now,
Letta Mbulu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Amon Düül II,
John Coltrane,
Minutemen,
Marshall Jefferson,
Supertramp,
Kurtis Blow,
the Soft Cell,
Ronan,
Brothers Johnson,
Oblivians,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Todd Rundgren,
The Barracudas,
The Residents,
The Litter,
Babytalk,
Tubeway Army,
Slick Rick,
Carl Craig,
The Raincoats,
Qualms,
Von Mondo,
Trumans Water,
Kaleidoscope,
Max Romeo,
The Martian,
Tres Demented,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rites of Spring,
The Tremeloes,
Susan Cadogan,
Funky Four + One,
Glambeats Corp.,
Crooked Eye,
Bang On A Can,
Bobby Womack,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ronnie Foster,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
La Düsseldorf,
Quadrant,
Jawbox,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jerry's Kids,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Beau Brummels,
Warsaw,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.