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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the rock 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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
MDC,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wolf Eyes,
Scratch Acid,
The Gladiators,
Arcadia,
Reuben Wilson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Das Ding,
Crispy Ambulance,
Swans,
Panda Bear,
The Last Poets,
Robert Görl,
Don Cherry,
Johnny Clarke,
the Association,
The Gap Band,
Symarip,
Tears for Fears,
Crash Course in Science,
Harpers Bizarre,
Q and Not U,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Music Machine,
Derrick Morgan,
Oblivians,
Graham Central Station,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Groovy Waters,
Hot Snakes,
Gabor Szabo,
Little Man,
Interpol,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fela Kuti,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rakim,
The Fortunes,
The Skatalites,
The Vogues,
The Birthday Party,
Donald Byrd,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fluxion,
Siglo XX,
Minnie Riperton,
Roger Hodgson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Bar-Kays,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Isaac Hayes,
Roxette,
Soul Sonic Force,
June Days,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mary Jane Girls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bob Dylan,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.