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 Norway and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Frankie Knuckles to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Blake Baxter,
The Move,
Moebius,
Marc Almond,
Quantec,
Lungfish,
The Litter,
Panda Bear,
a-ha,
Dennis Brown,
Stetsasonic,
Eli Mardock,
Nik Kershaw,
Crime,
Robert Görl,
Crash Course in Science,
The Knickerbockers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Audionom,
The Doors,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
F. McDonald,
Crooked Eye,
The Happenings,
Crispian St. Peters,
Qualms,
Junior Murvin,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barbara Tucker,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tubeway Army,
Thee Headcoats,
Urselle,
Reagan Youth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
La Düsseldorf,
The Birthday Party,
OOIOO,
MDC,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bootsy Collins,
Laurel Aitken,
The Names,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kas Product,
The Searchers,
Jerry's Kids,
the Bar-Kays,
The Fortunes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Yazoo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wings,
Desert Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marvin Gaye,
Brass Construction,
Section 25,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.