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 Croatia and from Spokane.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Swans to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bobby Sherman,
Wire,
Josef K,
Henry Cow,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Happenings,
Barrington Levy,
Grey Daturas,
The Smiths,
The J.B.'s,
New Order,
Subhumans,
David Bowie,
Thee Headcoats,
X-Ray Spex,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dorothy Ashby,
Technova,
The Gladiators,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Sonics,
Harmonia,
Agitation Free,
Fluxion,
Isaac Hayes,
Theoretical Girls,
Surgeon,
Gang of Four,
Colin Newman,
Mr. Review,
Ohio Players,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cymande,
Gang Starr,
Scion,
Moby Grape,
Rapeman,
Ronnie Foster,
Nick Fraelich,
The Barracudas,
Guru Guru,
Donny Hathaway,
Wolf Eyes,
Gong,
PIL,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eve St. Jones,
Fatback Band,
a-ha,
Ice-T,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jerry's Kids,
Skarface,
Black Sheep,
John Foxx,
FM Einheit,
Sight & Sound,
Yusef Lateef,
Whodini,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.