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 Barbados and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Delhi.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Newcleus to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Newcleus,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lindisfarne,
the Slits,
Pere Ubu,
Yellowson,
Barbara Tucker,
Sugar Minott,
Fela Kuti,
Y Pants,
Fad Gadget,
Camouflage,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Angry Samoans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
cv313,
The Gories,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joe Finger,
Black Flag,
Flipper,
Ultra Naté,
Pussy Galore,
The Vogues,
Bauhaus,
Whodini,
the Normal,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Boredoms,
Cluster,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Prince Buster,
The Blues Magoos,
Sun City Girls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ituana,
Isaac Hayes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bob Dylan,
The Music Machine,
Robert Görl,
Lalo Schifrin,
World's Most,
Tommy Roe,
Bobby Byrd,
Minor Threat,
Tears for Fears,
Johnny Osbourne,
Audionom,
Radio Birdman,
Cheater Slicks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alison Limerick,
Das Ding,
Kevin Saunderson,
Joensuu 1685,
Man Eating Sloth,
Iggy Pop,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.