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 Afghanistan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Ultimate Spinach to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Barry Ungar,
Alton Ellis,
Delon & Dalcan,
Little Man,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Alarm Clocks,
Judy Mowatt,
June of 44,
Fluxion,
Talk Talk,
Sparks,
The Cowsills,
Oblivians,
Scientists,
Brick,
Marmalade,
Minutemen,
Fatback Band,
China Crisis,
Heaven 17,
Essential Logic,
The Velvet Underground,
Marcia Griffiths,
Banda Bassotti,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Walker Brothers,
Fela Kuti,
Aswad,
Nils Olav,
Can,
Terrestrial Tones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Goldenarms,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Residents,
Television,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Soft Cell,
Animal Collective,
Outsiders,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Stooges,
DNA,
Bill Wells,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pierre Henry,
Second Layer,
K-Klass,
The Last Poets,
Country Teasers,
Yazoo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Aural Exciters,
Masters at Work,
Mandrill,
The Gories,
Erykah Badu,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.