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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Skaos to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
the Bar-Kays,
Jacques Brel,
Robert Hood,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Gun Club,
Nick Fraelich,
Dennis Brown,
Delta 5,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mark Hollis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fela Kuti,
Marine Girls,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Vogues,
Peter & Gordon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Yellowson,
David Bowie,
John Holt,
Public Enemy,
Pagans,
Animal Collective,
Television Personalities,
The Angels of Light,
Archie Shepp,
Desert Stars,
Graham Central Station,
Flash Fearless,
Spoonie Gee,
Tubeway Army,
The Monks,
Crash Course in Science,
Camouflage,
Althea and Donna,
Agitation Free,
David Axelrod,
The Trojans,
Smog,
Suburban Knight,
A Certain Ratio,
Bluetip,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kurtis Blow,
The Star Department,
Ponytail,
The Young Rascals,
Jawbox,
Gang Starr,
Jerry's Kids,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Black Pus,
Symarip,
Brothers Johnson,
Idris Muhammad,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.