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 South Sudan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Little Man to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Scientists,
Colin Newman,
Wire,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Evens,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fuzztones,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Barracudas,
Moss Icon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Silicon Teens,
Gichy Dan,
Adolescents,
Quadrant,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Alison Limerick,
ABBA,
The Red Krayola,
Nirvana,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Erykah Badu,
The New Christs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cramps,
Infiniti,
Man Parrish,
Soulsonic Force,
The Selecter,
The Leaves,
Magma,
Kevin Saunderson,
Boredoms,
Visage,
Ten City,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bill Wells,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Fire Engines,
Absolute Body Control,
The Monks,
Ronan,
Pagans,
Crooked Eye,
Minnie Riperton,
Sonic Youth,
Heaven 17,
The Grass Roots,
The Names,
Lucky Dragons,
Soft Cell,
Cameo,
Thompson Twins,
Spoonie Gee,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Barrington Levy,
Joensuu 1685,
Ornette Coleman,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.