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 Iraq and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Simply Red to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Derrick May,
The Monks,
Con Funk Shun,
AZ,
David Bowie,
Ronnie Foster,
The Happenings,
Maleditus Sound,
Khruangbin,
Joyce Sims,
Sly & The Family Stone,
DJ Style,
Eurythmics,
Massinfluence,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gil Scott Heron,
Leonard Cohen,
Bush Tetras,
Black Flag,
Magma,
Monks,
Whodini,
Eli Mardock,
Hasil Adkins,
The Techniques,
Easy Going,
the Bar-Kays,
The Slits,
Sun Ra,
The Red Krayola,
The Fire Engines,
Mantronix,
Rapeman,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Raincoats,
The Stooges,
Brass Construction,
Boz Scaggs,
John Cale,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
New Order,
Section 25,
Electric Prunes,
Au Pairs,
Byron Stingily,
Pagans,
Ultravox,
Gong,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Niagra,
Wasted Youth,
T. Rex,
Bobbi Humphrey,
MC5,
Inner City,
Q and Not U,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mars,
K-Klass,
Black Moon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.