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 Marshall Islands and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 snare 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 Grandmaster Flash to the funk 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 '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 Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delon & Dalcan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bobby Sherman,
Second Layer,
Soft Cell,
Bill Wells,
Nils Olav,
Reuben Wilson,
David Axelrod,
The J.B.'s,
DNA,
The Human League,
Symarip,
The Toasters,
Donny Hathaway,
Glenn Branca,
Crooked Eye,
Nick Fraelich,
Barbara Tucker,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Buzzcocks,
Juan Atkins,
The Cramps,
The Buckinghams,
The Evens,
The Doors,
Amon Düül II,
Sugar Minott,
The Standells,
The Trojans,
Michelle Simonal,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sight & Sound,
Half Japanese,
Rhythm & Sound,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eurythmics,
Sam Rivers,
Porter Ricks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Mummies,
Brass Construction,
Pharoah Sanders,
Surgeon,
Minnie Riperton,
Ronnie Foster,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
One Last Wish,
Mo-Dettes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Litter,
CMW,
John Foxx,
Gastr Del Sol,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Carl Craig,
Matthew Bourne,
F. McDonald,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.