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 Comoros and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Gladiators to the techno 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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Frankie Knuckles,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Skarface,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Don Cherry,
Todd Terry,
Junior Murvin,
Fat Boys,
Lou Christie,
Pantytec,
The Leaves,
Television Personalities,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Lydon,
Wolf Eyes,
Ronnie Foster,
Eve St. Jones,
Prince Buster,
The Barracudas,
Yazoo,
Barrington Levy,
Bad Manners,
The Cramps,
Ohio Players,
Derrick Morgan,
Sixth Finger,
Lucky Dragons,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Slave,
The Flesh Eaters,
LL Cool J,
The Selecter,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Pretty Things,
Saccharine Trust,
Flash Fearless,
Byron Stingily,
Make Up,
Minor Threat,
Bang On A Can,
Malaria!,
The Toasters,
Mr. Review,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Shoche,
Quando Quango,
Robert Hood,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Litter,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tom Boy,
The Blackbyrds,
Reuben Wilson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eden Ahbez,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.