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 Algeria and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord 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 Nico to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Janne Schatter,
Cecil Taylor,
The Saints,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Black Sheep,
Pulsallama,
Mr. Review,
Nick Fraelich,
Hashim,
Hoover,
Roxette,
Alphaville,
Pet Shop Boys,
Skriet,
the Human League,
Cameo,
Arthur Verocai,
The Monks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eddi Front,
Dead Boys,
Lyres,
Tim Buckley,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pagans,
Fugazi,
The Smiths,
Jeru the Damaja,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jerry's Kids,
Judy Mowatt,
Slave,
Youth Brigade,
Massinfluence,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Isaac Hayes,
Hasil Adkins,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Music Machine,
the Soft Cell,
Sight & Sound,
Scratch Acid,
James White and The Blacks,
Aswad,
Frankie Knuckles,
Robert Wyatt,
Toni Rubio,
Tears for Fears,
Marvin Gaye,
Rufus Thomas,
The Stooges,
Ituana,
Funkadelic,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crime,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scott Walker,
Rosa Yemen,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.