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 Austria and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum 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 The Mummies to the grime 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Surgeon,
Minny Pops,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Crooked Eye,
Godley & Creme,
Ornette Coleman,
Scratch Acid,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lindisfarne,
Gichy Dan,
Laurel Aitken,
Little Man,
The Trojans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gong,
Main Source,
Neu!,
The Doobie Brothers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rod Modell,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ludus,
Morten Harket,
Popol Vuh,
Brass Construction,
The Moody Blues,
Crash Course in Science,
A Certain Ratio,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Harry Pussy,
Masters at Work,
Sexual Harrassment,
Connie Case,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Danielle Patucci,
Model 500,
Marc Almond,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ice-T,
Second Layer,
Erasure,
Grauzone,
Althea and Donna,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Babytalk,
Judy Mowatt,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Unwound,
Marine Girls,
Amon Düül II,
Black Sheep,
Wolf Eyes,
Moss Icon,
New Order,
Barrington Levy,
The Standells,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Blues Magoos,
The Stooges,
Chris & Cosey,
The Searchers,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.