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 Croatia and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Intrusion to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring 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?
Bang On A Can,
Kayak,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Altered Images,
Sun Ra,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Joey Negro,
Arthur Verocai,
Chris & Cosey,
Crime,
Pussy Galore,
Scion,
The Cowsills,
Echospace,
DNA,
Con Funk Shun,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Cure,
Schoolly D,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nils Olav,
Black Sheep,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pole,
Lakeside,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eurythmics,
The Offenders,
Yellowson,
Cluster,
Monks,
The Litter,
Warsaw,
Spandau Ballet,
Motorama,
Deakin,
Dawn Penn,
Gang Green,
Sonic Youth,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Franke,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rhythm & Sound,
Technova,
Brand Nubian,
The Music Machine,
Gong,
Porter Ricks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rakim,
Slave,
New York Dolls,
H. Thieme,
The Tremeloes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Alton Ellis,
The Remains,
Ituana,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mo-Dettes,
Yaz,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.