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 Djibouti 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Black Pus to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Scrapy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Barbara Tucker,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Bar-Kays,
Mark Hollis,
John Lydon,
Spandau Ballet,
Deadbeat,
Television,
ABBA,
Dennis Brown,
Letta Mbulu,
Robert Wyatt,
Depeche Mode,
The Red Krayola,
Quadrant,
Amon Düül,
The Blackbyrds,
Eric B and Rakim,
Piero Umiliani,
Cybotron,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Erykah Badu,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dark Day,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
New York Dolls,
Bizarre Inc.,
CMW,
Monolake,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Aaron Thompson,
Suicide,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Flesh Eaters,
Soft Cell,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Das Ding,
the Normal,
Yazoo,
Sam Rivers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sandy B,
the Swans,
DJ Sneak,
The Fall,
Jerry's Kids,
Erasure,
Scion,
The J.B.'s,
Fat Boys,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wolf Eyes,
Bob Dylan,
Lungfish,
Marmalade,
Jeff Mills,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.