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 Tunisia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the jazz 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
T. Rex,
Main Source,
Kool Moe Dee,
Chris & Cosey,
Aaron Thompson,
Henry Cow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Amon Düül,
Au Pairs,
Kevin Saunderson,
48th St. Collective,
Hashim,
Be Bop Deluxe,
10cc,
Fugazi,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mission of Burma,
Youth Brigade,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bauhaus,
Suicide,
Byron Stingily,
Ossler,
Tears for Fears,
Buzzcocks,
Radio Birdman,
Scientists,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Das Ding,
Sonny Sharrock,
Albert Ayler,
Moss Icon,
Black Sheep,
Jacques Brel,
Ralphi Rosario,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Invisible,
Eli Mardock,
Monks,
Siglo XX,
The Neon Judgement,
Shoche,
The Durutti Column,
Urselle,
Toni Rubio,
Max Romeo,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Normal,
Wasted Youth,
Rotary Connection,
Zapp,
Susan Cadogan,
F. McDonald,
Rhythm & Sound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Andrew Hill,
Kas Product,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.