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 Tajikistan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Josef K to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Alphaville,
John Lydon,
Sixth Finger,
Heaven 17,
Simply Red,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scan 7,
MC5,
Bobby Womack,
In Retrospect,
the Normal,
Faraquet,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Leaves,
The United States of America,
Mars,
Lungfish,
a-ha,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Bar-Kays,
Thee Headcoats,
The Human League,
The Gun Club,
Whodini,
Archie Shepp,
Vladislav Delay,
Smog,
Janne Schatter,
X-101,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rod Modell,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Raincoats,
Blake Baxter,
The Five Americans,
Moby Grape,
The Litter,
Wally Richardson,
Young Marble Giants,
Electric Prunes,
Howard Jones,
Tom Boy,
Godley & Creme,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Misunderstood,
The Cramps,
F. McDonald,
Dark Day,
MDC,
DJ Style,
Toni Rubio,
The Dead C,
Kevin Saunderson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Monks,
Fear,
The Grass Roots,
Isaac Hayes,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.