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 Tanzania and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 Bar-Kays to the rap 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Jacob Miller,
Aloha Tigers,
Monks,
Nico,
The Cramps,
Johnny Clarke,
Arcadia,
Metal Thangz,
The Velvet Underground,
Ronnie Foster,
H. Thieme,
Sexual Harrassment,
CMW,
New York Dolls,
Heaven 17,
Eric Dolphy,
Marvin Gaye,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Popol Vuh,
Donald Byrd,
Country Teasers,
The Star Department,
Tomorrow,
The Detroit Cobras,
Talk Talk,
Moss Icon,
Howard Jones,
Con Funk Shun,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Icehouse,
The Evens,
Alphaville,
Monolake,
Marmalade,
Dual Sessions,
The Searchers,
kango's stein massive,
Ituana,
Kevin Saunderson,
FM Einheit,
Grandmaster Flash,
U.S. Maple,
Steve Hackett,
The New Christs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Thee Headcoats,
Isaac Hayes,
Roxy Music,
James White and The Blacks,
Fatback Band,
Minutemen,
Davy DMX,
Sound Behaviour,
China Crisis,
Skaos,
Aaron Thompson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Urselle,
These Immortal Souls,
Agitation Free,
Subhumans,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.