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 Algeria and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the theremin 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bronski Beat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Freddie Wadling,
Y Pants,
The Knickerbockers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Guru Guru,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
PIL,
Eric Dolphy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
UT,
Eve St. Jones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rufus Thomas,
Barbara Tucker,
Iggy Pop,
Crime,
Surgeon,
Ponytail,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Erykah Badu,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Todd Rundgren,
U.S. Maple,
The Associates,
The Blues Magoos,
Grauzone,
Crooked Eye,
Pussy Galore,
Mary Jane Girls,
Dark Day,
Radio Birdman,
Ultra Naté,
Newcleus,
Tom Boy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Susan Cadogan,
Unrelated Segments,
Sam Rivers,
The Victims,
Glenn Branca,
Funkadelic,
Mr. Review,
T.S.O.L.,
D'Angelo,
Technova,
Quando Quango,
Negative Approach,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Sound,
Kool Moe Dee,
Skarface,
Kerri Chandler,
The Doors,
L. Decosne,
Underground Resistance,
Andrew Hill,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.