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 Comoros and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the grime 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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Gastr Del Sol,
Blancmange,
Neu!,
Robert Hood,
Scott Walker,
Quando Quango,
Reuben Wilson,
Aural Exciters,
Althea and Donna,
Symarip,
The Vogues,
the Sonics,
Lebanon Hanover,
Oblivians,
Lindisfarne,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Dorothy Ashby,
Terry Callier,
The Fuzztones,
The Mojo Men,
Goldenarms,
Eddi Front,
Alice Coltrane,
The Victims,
Jacques Brel,
Von Mondo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Absolute Body Control,
Janne Schatter,
Ohio Players,
Carl Craig,
Yusef Lateef,
Leonard Cohen,
Scratch Acid,
Dual Sessions,
Bobby Sherman,
Motorama,
Hardrive,
Thompson Twins,
The Buckinghams,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Slick Rick,
The Music Machine,
The Dirtbombs,
Cal Tjader,
Al Stewart,
The Motions,
Easy Going,
The Monochrome Set,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Star Department,
cv313,
The Birthday Party,
Pole,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rakim,
the Association,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.