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 Oman and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Max Romeo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alton Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Eurythmics,
John Cale,
Maleditus Sound,
PIL,
Agitation Free,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Simply Red,
Pantaleimon,
the Normal,
Dark Day,
Max Romeo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
R.M.O.,
The Zeros,
Joey Negro,
Y Pants,
H. Thieme,
Theoretical Girls,
The Saints,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cameo,
Aaron Thompson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Blossom Toes,
Minny Pops,
The Fire Engines,
Livin' Joy,
The Litter,
The Trojans,
Minutemen,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Magazine,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Patti Smith,
The Blackbyrds,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Slick Rick,
Flash Fearless,
Chris Corsano,
Suicide,
Masters at Work,
Monks,
Hoover,
Henry Cow,
Pere Ubu,
Ornette Coleman,
Black Sheep,
Dennis Brown,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Stooges,
Man Eating Sloth,
Agent Orange,
Camouflage,
The Associates,
Tubeway Army,
The Black Dice,
Glenn Branca,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Slits,
T. Rex,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.