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 Moldova and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the techno 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
The Kinks,
Second Layer,
Barrington Levy,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fall,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Vainqueur,
Can,
Alice Coltrane,
Jerry's Kids,
Leonard Cohen,
The Martian,
Sixth Finger,
Erykah Badu,
Howard Jones,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cybotron,
The Neon Judgement,
Jawbox,
John Coltrane,
Roy Ayers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gichy Dan,
Fatback Band,
Con Funk Shun,
R.M.O.,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
David Bowie,
Loose Ends,
U.S. Maple,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Half Japanese,
Agent Orange,
the Human League,
Joe Smooth,
The New Christs,
Interpol,
The Modern Lovers,
The Skatalites,
Ornette Coleman,
Black Moon,
Zero Boys,
Harry Pussy,
Nico,
The Young Rascals,
L. Decosne,
Roxette,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Buckinghams,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Black Sheep,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Evens,
Duran Duran,
Fugazi,
Marmalade,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.