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 Kyrgyzstan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 oboe 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 Susan Cadogan to the electroclash 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
The Selecter,
The Fortunes,
Easy Going,
The Kinks,
Gichy Dan,
Gang Starr,
X-101,
Unrelated Segments,
Masters at Work,
Mission of Burma,
Rites of Spring,
The Five Americans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crime,
The Black Dice,
Mark Hollis,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lou Christie,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Misunderstood,
Hashim,
Amon Düül II,
Vainqueur,
Au Pairs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cheater Slicks,
Porter Ricks,
Chris Corsano,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Supertramp,
The J.B.'s,
Fat Boys,
Maurizio,
Robert Görl,
The Wake,
Grauzone,
T.S.O.L.,
Delta 5,
Fluxion,
DNA,
Duran Duran,
Flamin' Groovies,
Soft Machine,
Warren Ellis,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mandrill,
Todd Terry,
Joensuu 1685,
Cluster,
Thee Headcoats,
The Barracudas,
Gang of Four,
Scientists,
AZ,
Kevin Saunderson,
Smog,
Rufus Thomas,
Scan 7,
June Days,
Procol Harum,
the Germs,
Loose Ends,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.