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 China and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator 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 Searchers to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
R.M.O.,
Mars,
DJ Style,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Detroit Cobras,
Erasure,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rosa Yemen,
June Days,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang of Four,
Arcadia,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
New Order,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mary Jane Girls,
MDC,
Patti Smith,
Avey Tare,
the Normal,
Urselle,
Warsaw,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ludus,
The Martian,
D'Angelo,
Terry Callier,
cv313,
It's A Beautiful Day,
New Age Steppers,
Brothers Johnson,
John Lydon,
Morten Harket,
The Monochrome Set,
Lindisfarne,
Davy DMX,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Kinks,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Happenings,
Wolf Eyes,
The Modern Lovers,
The Dead C,
Freddie Wadling,
Gichy Dan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Radio Birdman,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rakim,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Monks,
Das Ding,
The Stooges,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bang On A Can,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.