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 Libya and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Jeru the Damaja to the disco 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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Yaz,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Swans,
Soft Cell,
The Sound,
Spandau Ballet,
Faraquet,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sunsets and Hearts,
June Days,
The Happenings,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Echospace,
The Standells,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Leaves,
T. Rex,
D'Angelo,
The Knickerbockers,
Eli Mardock,
Suicide,
The Martian,
Bad Manners,
Isaac Hayes,
Sparks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Surgeon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scratch Acid,
Minnie Riperton,
Moss Icon,
Agitation Free,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Cure,
Ultimate Spinach,
X-102,
The Birthday Party,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fad Gadget,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Selecter,
Michelle Simonal,
Lightning Bolt,
La Düsseldorf,
Camberwell Now,
The Angels of Light,
Skarface,
The Remains,
Pagans,
Gang Green,
Roxette,
Ultravox,
Neu!,
Sonny Sharrock,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jimmy McGriff,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.