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 Guinea and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sun City Girls to the punk 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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
U.S. Maple,
Stereo Dub,
Sugar Minott,
Gregory Isaacs,
DJ Style,
Gang Starr,
John Cale,
The Slits,
Wire,
The Count Five,
Andrew Hill,
Absolute Body Control,
Symarip,
Terry Callier,
10cc,
Minutemen,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Shadows of Knight,
Electric Prunes,
The Fall,
Japan,
Depeche Mode,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ornette Coleman,
the Association,
Eric Dolphy,
Scott Walker,
Skaos,
Mo-Dettes,
Scientists,
K-Klass,
Talk Talk,
The Stooges,
Urselle,
Robert Hood,
The Residents,
The Red Krayola,
Average White Band,
The Raincoats,
Grey Daturas,
Hasil Adkins,
B.T. Express,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ken Boothe,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Alarm Clocks,
A Certain Ratio,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cure,
Bob Dylan,
Jacob Miller,
Tropical Tobacco,
Stetsasonic,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Surgeon,
Flamin' Groovies,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.