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 Switzerland and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Morten Harket to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Eric Copeland,
T. Rex,
Letta Mbulu,
Wasted Youth,
The Blackbyrds,
Cecil Taylor,
Radiohead,
R.M.O.,
Black Pus,
Kerri Chandler,
The Standells,
Robert Wyatt,
Mars,
Interpol,
Tres Demented,
Porter Ricks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Danielle Patucci,
Avey Tare,
Parry Music,
Nico,
Anthony Braxton,
The Fugs,
Subhumans,
X-Ray Spex,
Max Romeo,
Brothers Johnson,
Matthew Bourne,
Blossom Toes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Monks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Brass Construction,
Trumans Water,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Barclay James Harvest,
DJ Style,
Bobby Womack,
The Pop Group,
Gong,
Pole,
Deepchord,
Erasure,
Joey Negro,
Royal Trux,
Lou Reed,
Boz Scaggs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Dave Gahan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Walker Brothers,
ABBA,
Swell Maps,
DJ Sneak,
the Association,
Surgeon,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.