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 Jamaica and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Al Stewart to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
June Days,
Dave Gahan,
James White and The Blacks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Index,
The Barracudas,
The Music Machine,
Echospace,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Gladiators,
Country Teasers,
Shoche,
Nick Fraelich,
Audionom,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eli Mardock,
Barry Ungar,
Alton Ellis,
The Golliwogs,
Infiniti,
The Cramps,
Gabor Szabo,
This Heat,
Marmalade,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jacob Miller,
John Coltrane,
The Five Americans,
The Neon Judgement,
UT,
Main Source,
Brothers Johnson,
Negative Approach,
Quantec,
Lalo Schifrin,
Y Pants,
Duran Duran,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultra Naté,
Sällskapet,
Tubeway Army,
Maurizio,
The American Breed,
Chris & Cosey,
Deadbeat,
Inner City,
Kaleidoscope,
Warsaw,
Accadde A,
Television,
Eden Ahbez,
Rotary Connection,
Scott Walker,
The Raincoats,
Adolescents,
F. McDonald,
Eric Copeland,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.