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 Haiti and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 spring reverb 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unrelated Segments record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wasted Youth,
The Motions,
DNA,
Joey Negro,
Suicide,
Erasure,
The Martian,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Silicon Teens,
Roxy Music,
Pantytec,
Half Japanese,
Drexciya,
Carl Craig,
The Trojans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Brand Nubian,
Bill Wells,
The Saints,
Dave Gahan,
U.S. Maple,
8 Eyed Spy,
Second Layer,
The Pretty Things,
A Certain Ratio,
Mo-Dettes,
The Slackers,
Reagan Youth,
Swans,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Ronnie Foster,
Kaleidoscope,
Prince Buster,
The Gap Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
Franke,
Mandrill,
Khruangbin,
FM Einheit,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dual Sessions,
Clear Light,
Hasil Adkins,
The Music Machine,
Barbara Tucker,
The Five Americans,
Marmalade,
Don Cherry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
London Community Gospel Choir,
John Holt,
Aaron Thompson,
Nas,
The Mummies,
Tears for Fears,
Nirvana,
The J.B.'s,
ABC,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd..
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.