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 Korea North and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 mellotron 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 Joe Smooth to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jacques Brel,
Sarah Menescal,
Khruangbin,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dark Day,
Nas,
Traffic Nightmare,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Erasure,
the Germs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lou Reed,
Joe Finger,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gang of Four,
Thee Headcoats,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Walker Brothers,
Cybotron,
In Retrospect,
Mo-Dettes,
Yaz,
Lungfish,
Spandau Ballet,
The Index,
Little Man,
Silicon Teens,
The Selecter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Fall,
Duran Duran,
Jeff Mills,
Lightning Bolt,
New Order,
The Dead C,
The Gun Club,
Morten Harket,
X-Ray Spex,
Suicide,
Dave Gahan,
Ten City,
Soft Cell,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mr. Review,
Index,
Ohio Players,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Human League,
This Heat,
Basic Channel,
Dual Sessions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Don Cherry,
The Blackbyrds,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.