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 Yemen and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Roxy Music to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Boogie Down Productions,
Niagra,
F. McDonald,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Duran Duran,
Chris & Cosey,
Idris Muhammad,
Ultra Naté,
Mission of Burma,
OOIOO,
the Association,
Skarface,
Fugazi,
The Seeds,
The Durutti Column,
Kaleidoscope,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Grass Roots,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Index,
Tom Boy,
Heaven 17,
Grey Daturas,
Pierre Henry,
Wings,
Gang Starr,
Outsiders,
Sexual Harrassment,
Masters at Work,
Black Bananas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Spandau Ballet,
The Electric Prunes,
DJ Sneak,
Ituana,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sonic Youth,
The Young Rascals,
Pantytec,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Main Source,
The Move,
Terry Callier,
Spoonie Gee,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Youth Brigade,
The Birthday Party,
The Trojans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Matthew Halsall,
The Motions,
The Remains,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Johnny Osbourne,
Letta Mbulu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Desert Stars,
Althea and Donna,
Buzzcocks,
Flipper,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.