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 Lithuania and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 8 Eyed Spy to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
The Red Krayola,
Agent Orange,
the Bar-Kays,
The Gories,
Infiniti,
The Beau Brummels,
Terry Callier,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Alphaville,
LL Cool J,
Blancmange,
Pylon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fatback Band,
Black Flag,
Kool Moe Dee,
Blake Baxter,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Archie Shepp,
Suicide,
Monks,
Smog,
Alton Ellis,
The Raincoats,
John Coltrane,
Ludus,
Hardrive,
Delon & Dalcan,
John Lydon,
Arcadia,
Howard Jones,
Bauhaus,
Marmalade,
Talk Talk,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Neu!,
Laurel Aitken,
Wally Richardson,
the Sonics,
Nation of Ulysses,
a-ha,
The Associates,
Robert Hood,
Flamin' Groovies,
Boz Scaggs,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Searchers,
Little Man,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun City Girls,
Radio Birdman,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Von Mondo,
Porter Ricks,
Metal Thangz,
Nik Kershaw,
Con Funk Shun,
Chris Corsano,
Wings,
The Selecter,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.