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 Japan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Big Daddy Kane to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Cecil Taylor,
Andrew Hill,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Sound,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Depeche Mode,
the Association,
Little Man,
Adolescents,
Eric Dolphy,
Scrapy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Freddie Wadling,
John Cale,
The Remains,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Grey Daturas,
Nico,
The Five Americans,
The Slackers,
Todd Rundgren,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Golliwogs,
Slick Rick,
Pere Ubu,
Moebius,
The Cowsills,
Suicide,
Alice Coltrane,
Lebanon Hanover,
Black Bananas,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Arcadia,
Hot Snakes,
Don Cherry,
The Busters,
David Axelrod,
Wasted Youth,
Peter & Gordon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Alison Limerick,
Todd Terry,
Porter Ricks,
Charles Mingus,
Altered Images,
World's Most,
Soul II Soul,
Ken Boothe,
Sandy B,
The Vogues,
The Move,
Deakin,
ABC,
Ponytail,
Vainqueur,
Audionom,
Arab on Radar,
Brand Nubian,
Deepchord,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.