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 Afghanistan and from Calgary.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Stetsasonic to the punk 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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
a-ha,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Selecter,
Zero Boys,
Mad Mike,
Black Pus,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Young Rascals,
Soul II Soul,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Loose Ends,
Sun Ra,
Silicon Teens,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bush Tetras,
Laurel Aitken,
The Skatalites,
Neil Young,
Morten Harket,
Susan Cadogan,
R.M.O.,
Outsiders,
The Stooges,
Skarface,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Neon Judgement,
Brothers Johnson,
The Star Department,
The Raincoats,
The Motions,
EPMD,
Thee Headcoats,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The New Christs,
Davy DMX,
Wally Richardson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Josef K,
Crispian St. Peters,
Country Teasers,
Idris Muhammad,
Rufus Thomas,
Jimmy McGriff,
Animal Collective,
The Gories,
Theoretical Girls,
Fela Kuti,
Gang Green,
Dennis Brown,
Cal Tjader,
Ronan,
Roxette,
The Martian,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Buzzcocks,
Sixth Finger,
D'Angelo,
Joe Smooth,
Sight & Sound,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.