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 Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ 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 The Walker Brothers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Slave,
The Misunderstood,
Funkadelic,
Cameo,
Matthew Bourne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Slick Rick,
The Blues Magoos,
China Crisis,
Black Bananas,
Absolute Body Control,
Stereo Dub,
Ten City,
The New Christs,
Joy Division,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
FM Einheit,
Steve Hackett,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Sound Behaviour,
Gang of Four,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dual Sessions,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Arcadia,
the Human League,
The Buckinghams,
Carl Craig,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Alton Ellis,
a-ha,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marine Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
Yazoo,
L. Decosne,
Henry Cow,
Isaac Hayes,
Nik Kershaw,
Rapeman,
Harpers Bizarre,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Skarface,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Interpol,
Ralphi Rosario,
Darondo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Vainqueur,
The Vogues,
Sun Ra,
Animal Collective,
Loose Ends,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Human League,
Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp.
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.