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 Gambia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 rhodes 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 Litter to the dance 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Avey Tare,
Monks,
Bush Tetras,
Rosa Yemen,
Quando Quango,
Fatback Band,
Tears for Fears,
Bang On A Can,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pantytec,
The Knickerbockers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Josef K,
Sandy B,
The Modern Lovers,
The Leaves,
Reuben Wilson,
Jeff Mills,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Pop Group,
Roy Ayers,
Zapp,
Little Man,
Joe Finger,
The Music Machine,
Scientists,
Cameo,
Junior Murvin,
The Pretty Things,
The Smiths,
The Residents,
Swell Maps,
Prince Buster,
Wally Richardson,
Easy Going,
The Gories,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fuzztones,
Jesper Dahlback,
Circle Jerks,
Brand Nubian,
Stockholm Monsters,
The United States of America,
Groovy Waters,
Radiopuhelimet,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Heaven 17,
The Cure,
Byron Stingily,
This Heat,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Siglo XX,
Rapeman,
Glenn Branca,
Suburban Knight,
Yaz,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Black Sheep,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.