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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ 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 Camouflage to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Kinks. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
The Tremeloes,
Surgeon,
Crooked Eye,
Crime,
Index,
B.T. Express,
The Offenders,
Moby Grape,
The Gladiators,
Connie Case,
Rapeman,
Alison Limerick,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sister Nancy,
Kaleidoscope,
Slick Rick,
Anakelly,
Wings,
Organ,
The Invisible,
Eve St. Jones,
Sex Pistols,
The Black Dice,
Brick,
The Martian,
Half Japanese,
Model 500,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Beau Brummels,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wolf Eyes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Matthew Halsall,
Letta Mbulu,
Graham Central Station,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bobby Byrd,
Eli Mardock,
Johnny Clarke,
EPMD,
Wally Richardson,
Technova,
Tres Demented,
Dual Sessions,
Tom Boy,
Crispy Ambulance,
James White and The Blacks,
Skaos,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Modern Lovers,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Red Krayola,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kas Product,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.