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 Panama and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Star Department to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
The New Christs,
Radiohead,
Mars,
Groovy Waters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Severed Heads,
10cc,
The Victims,
Warsaw,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Skarface,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang of Four,
Simply Red,
The Young Rascals,
The Selecter,
Alphaville,
The Beau Brummels,
The American Breed,
The Doors,
Sparks,
Au Pairs,
Technova,
Kerri Chandler,
Accadde A,
The Golliwogs,
Bobby Sherman,
Half Japanese,
Tears for Fears,
Silicon Teens,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Erasure,
F. McDonald,
Sun City Girls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Reagan Youth,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Litter,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Smoke,
Maurizio,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Public Enemy,
the Bar-Kays,
Scrapy,
Ultimate Spinach,
DJ Style,
Gerry Rafferty,
Aloha Tigers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Section 25,
Alison Limerick,
The Dave Clark Five,
Soft Machine,
T.S.O.L.,
Charles Mingus,
Howard Jones,
Arcadia,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.