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 Kenya and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 rhodes 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 Minny Pops to the disco 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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Derrick Morgan,
Henry Cow,
Flash Fearless,
MDC,
Black Moon,
Deepchord,
Flipper,
Quantec,
Qualms,
Eden Ahbez,
The Wake,
Charles Mingus,
The Angels of Light,
Drive Like Jehu,
David Axelrod,
Monks,
Underground Resistance,
Scan 7,
The Shadows of Knight,
Soft Machine,
Maurizio,
The Monochrome Set,
Nils Olav,
Loose Ends,
Sixth Finger,
Das Ding,
Theoretical Girls,
Metal Thangz,
Alphaville,
Prince Buster,
Soulsonic Force,
Bob Dylan,
Wasted Youth,
Marmalade,
The Zeros,
Toni Rubio,
Alice Coltrane,
Marc Almond,
Popol Vuh,
Camberwell Now,
Anthony Braxton,
Fat Boys,
The Monks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kayak,
the Swans,
Unwound,
Todd Terry,
Livin' Joy,
Little Man,
Desert Stars,
Robert Görl,
Youth Brigade,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fela Kuti,
Bronski Beat,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Buzzcocks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.