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 Djibouti and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Chris & Cosey to the funk 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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
U.S. Maple,
Robert Wyatt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Pus,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mo-Dettes,
Slick Rick,
Khruangbin,
Harmonia,
The Standells,
Sonny Sharrock,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Donald Byrd,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Real Kids,
Piero Umiliani,
kango's stein massive,
The Leaves,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fortunes,
Eurythmics,
Peter & Gordon,
10cc,
Loose Ends,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Massinfluence,
Nirvana,
Gang Starr,
Mantronix,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Techniques,
The Shadows of Knight,
Spoonie Gee,
Mad Mike,
Joey Negro,
48th St. Collective,
Deadbeat,
Byron Stingily,
Matthew Bourne,
Parry Music,
New Order,
Cecil Taylor,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Saccharine Trust,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Banda Bassotti,
Flipper,
The Remains,
Newcleus,
Con Funk Shun,
Connie Case,
Minnie Riperton,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Angry Samoans,
The Red Krayola,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Motions,
June Days,
Wire,
Matthew Halsall,
The Pop Group,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.