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 Lebanon and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Little Man to the disco 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Franke,
Crime,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Harry Pussy,
DJ Style,
Moby Grape,
Spandau Ballet,
Mandrill,
Cybotron,
Pylon,
Nation of Ulysses,
F. McDonald,
Juan Atkins,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Vogues,
MC5,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
DJ Sneak,
Arcadia,
The Residents,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ponytail,
Motorama,
One Last Wish,
MDC,
CMW,
Blake Baxter,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Toasters,
Skarface,
Sugar Minott,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Susan Cadogan,
Faust,
R.M.O.,
Ultimate Spinach,
Deakin,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Slackers,
Boredoms,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Alice Coltrane,
Fluxion,
Ultra Naté,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
D'Angelo,
Youth Brigade,
Chrome,
Delon & Dalcan,
Roy Ayers,
Black Pus,
Eric Dolphy,
UT,
The Misunderstood,
Radio Birdman,
X-Ray Spex,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.