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 Costa Rica and from Lagos.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
June of 44,
Panda Bear,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Carl Craig,
Cymande,
The Searchers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eric Copeland,
Ronnie Foster,
Cal Tjader,
Henry Cow,
John Holt,
Colin Newman,
Traffic Nightmare,
Drexciya,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Reed,
Popol Vuh,
Minnie Riperton,
Donald Byrd,
Eve St. Jones,
Rekid,
Donny Hathaway,
Radiohead,
Audionom,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fortunes,
a-ha,
The Buckinghams,
Black Sheep,
Sam Rivers,
The Offenders,
Bobby Womack,
Gerry Rafferty,
Faust,
Be Bop Deluxe,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gastr Del Sol,
Albert Ayler,
Brass Construction,
Tomorrow,
Eli Mardock,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Divine Comedy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kayak,
The Music Machine,
The Slackers,
Laurel Aitken,
Youth Brigade,
Morten Harket,
Skaos,
Tears for Fears,
The Count Five,
Soft Machine,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pagans,
Roger Hodgson,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.