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 Malawi and from London.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Swell Maps to the techno 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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Spandau Ballet,
The Human League,
Agent Orange,
Hot Snakes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Brick,
Johnny Clarke,
The Buckinghams,
The Neon Judgement,
Faust,
Scion,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dennis Brown,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joensuu 1685,
Tropical Tobacco,
Piero Umiliani,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Count Five,
Grey Daturas,
Con Funk Shun,
Tom Boy,
The Barracudas,
Dave Gahan,
Stetsasonic,
Main Source,
Alton Ellis,
Kayak,
Circle Jerks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Mojo Men,
D'Angelo,
Depeche Mode,
Oblivians,
Skaos,
David Bowie,
The Modern Lovers,
Deakin,
Ultimate Spinach,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Niagra,
Qualms,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Barry Ungar,
Laurel Aitken,
Toni Rubio,
Byron Stingily,
Soul II Soul,
Sonic Youth,
Boogie Down Productions,
Essential Logic,
Visage,
Underground Resistance,
The Blackbyrds,
Hasil Adkins,
Negative Approach,
The Vogues,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.