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 Ivory Coast and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Swans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Darondo,
Silicon Teens,
The Barracudas,
Eli Mardock,
Bob Dylan,
Rekid,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Popol Vuh,
Peter & Gordon,
48th St. Collective,
John Coltrane,
AZ,
The Monks,
Sugar Minott,
Eddi Front,
Amon Düül II,
Sparks,
Bronski Beat,
Black Sheep,
Scratch Acid,
Bizarre Inc.,
Oblivians,
Sam Rivers,
Jeff Mills,
The Star Department,
Zapp,
Buzzcocks,
Second Layer,
The Gories,
The American Breed,
Hardrive,
the Slits,
New York Dolls,
CMW,
Fat Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
Procol Harum,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jimmy McGriff,
Althea and Donna,
Lower 48,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Severed Heads,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bill Wells,
Hashim,
Talk Talk,
H. Thieme,
June of 44,
Funky Four + One,
Dark Day,
Lucky Dragons,
The Blackbyrds,
Barclay James Harvest,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jesper Dahlback,
Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci.
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.