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 Venezuela and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba 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 Scratch Acid to the crunk 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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
The Sound,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gang Green,
Max Romeo,
Alton Ellis,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ultravox,
Niagra,
Gregory Isaacs,
X-Ray Spex,
Aswad,
Swell Maps,
The Divine Comedy,
UT,
Lindisfarne,
Quadrant,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Byron Stingily,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Model 500,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Fugs,
Cheater Slicks,
T. Rex,
Reagan Youth,
Junior Murvin,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Zeros,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Andrew Hill,
Wire,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Motions,
Kas Product,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Slick Rick,
The Last Poets,
The Litter,
Sugar Minott,
New York Dolls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eric Copeland,
The Dave Clark Five,
Warsaw,
Freddie Wadling,
Skarface,
Warren Ellis,
Eric Dolphy,
Albert Ayler,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Banda Bassotti,
Agitation Free,
Royal Trux,
Shoche,
Eli Mardock,
Malaria!,
Bad Manners,
The Invisible,
Von Mondo,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.