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 East Timor and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Donald Fagen 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 Barbara Tucker 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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Steve Hackett,
Scion,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mr. Review,
Fear,
Henry Cow,
Cluster,
Severed Heads,
The Techniques,
Pierre Henry,
The Raincoats,
Byron Stingily,
The Barracudas,
Alison Limerick,
Spandau Ballet,
The Music Machine,
The Cowsills,
Basic Channel,
The Monks,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Crime,
Spoonie Gee,
Sixth Finger,
Popol Vuh,
Alphaville,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Model 500,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Kinks,
The Modern Lovers,
ABC,
The Five Americans,
the Swans,
DJ Style,
Iggy Pop,
Fela Kuti,
Juan Atkins,
Main Source,
the Fania All-Stars,
Carl Craig,
X-101,
The Leaves,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gastr Del Sol,
Neil Young,
Essential Logic,
Zapp,
Roxette,
This Heat,
Soulsonic Force,
Radio Birdman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Johnny Clarke,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Grandmaster Flash,
Reagan Youth,
The Dirtbombs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Khruangbin,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.