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 Somalia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin 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 The Dead C to the dance 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Main Source,
Yazoo,
Sparks,
James White and The Blacks,
Pierre Henry,
CMW,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Selecter,
Echospace,
Unwound,
cv313,
Reuben Wilson,
Alphaville,
The Barracudas,
Average White Band,
Matthew Halsall,
The Fuzztones,
Robert Görl,
Gang Starr,
The Moleskins,
Vladislav Delay,
Black Flag,
Fela Kuti,
The Gladiators,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jandek,
Ossler,
Sex Pistols,
Spandau Ballet,
Minutemen,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ten City,
Radiohead,
Derrick Morgan,
The Offenders,
The Happenings,
Tomorrow,
a-ha,
Angry Samoans,
Kerri Chandler,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Donald Byrd,
David Axelrod,
Sarah Menescal,
Los Fastidios,
Sight & Sound,
Carl Craig,
Ultravox,
Avey Tare,
Funky Four + One,
The Smiths,
Pole,
Mandrill,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Susan Cadogan,
UT,
Cluster,
The Raincoats,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.