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 Mexico and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Jakarta.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Schoolly D to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Derrick May,
the Fania All-Stars,
Funkadelic,
Tomorrow,
Carl Craig,
Ten City,
Negative Approach,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Golliwogs,
Crooked Eye,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lindisfarne,
T.S.O.L.,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Das Ding,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Grass Roots,
Tears for Fears,
Wings,
Isaac Hayes,
Lou Reed,
Lower 48,
Mantronix,
Todd Terry,
Electric Light Orchestra,
F. McDonald,
Make Up,
Crime,
Eve St. Jones,
The Trojans,
This Heat,
Grandmaster Flash,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sun City Girls,
Patti Smith,
Malaria!,
Sugar Minott,
Donald Byrd,
Fad Gadget,
Echospace,
Ohio Players,
Michelle Simonal,
The Busters,
Ultravox,
The Smoke,
Slick Rick,
Eurythmics,
Cluster,
Little Man,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Arcadia,
Cheater Slicks,
Symarip,
The Invisible,
The Sonics,
Erykah Badu,
The Techniques,
Sixth Finger,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.