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 Tajikistan and from Lagos.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar 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 Mars to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Blake Baxter,
Swans,
Andrew Hill,
June of 44,
Bang On A Can,
Excepter,
Kayak,
The Misunderstood,
Peter & Gordon,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tommy Roe,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang Green,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eurythmics,
Derrick May,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Roy Ayers,
Yusef Lateef,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Surgeon,
The American Breed,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Pretty Things,
Prince Buster,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Desert Stars,
Aloha Tigers,
Das Ding,
Bronski Beat,
Scrapy,
Sonny Sharrock,
10cc,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Vogues,
One Last Wish,
Wally Richardson,
Ossler,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Skatalites,
Bobby Womack,
Livin' Joy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Youth Brigade,
Eve St. Jones,
Barry Ungar,
Mark Hollis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
John Lydon,
B.T. Express,
Byron Stingily,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fuzztones,
Suburban Knight,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.