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 Kazakhstan 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Ralphi Rosario to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
The Fortunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jawbox,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Spandau Ballet,
Ice-T,
La Düsseldorf,
Circle Jerks,
X-101,
Anthony Braxton,
Sugar Minott,
Suburban Knight,
Harmonia,
Fela Kuti,
Dark Day,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gang of Four,
Silicon Teens,
This Heat,
8 Eyed Spy,
World's Most,
The Evens,
Fad Gadget,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Can,
Janne Schatter,
Von Mondo,
Sister Nancy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nick Fraelich,
The Litter,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Carl Craig,
Agent Orange,
Patti Smith,
Kevin Saunderson,
Minnie Riperton,
Wire,
LL Cool J,
The Barracudas,
Sun Ra,
Flash Fearless,
Drexciya,
Easy Going,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Brass Construction,
Alison Limerick,
Pantytec,
Surgeon,
Boz Scaggs,
Byron Stingily,
Juan Atkins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Franke,
KRS-One,
the Human League,
R.M.O.,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.