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 Fiji and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet 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 Grey Daturas to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Jerry's Kids,
The Evens,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Terry Callier,
The Cowsills,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Alison Limerick,
Reuben Wilson,
Depeche Mode,
Fugazi,
Faust,
The Residents,
Gerry Rafferty,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Leonard Cohen,
K-Klass,
Skaos,
Tears for Fears,
Jeff Mills,
Crooked Eye,
Sight & Sound,
Negative Approach,
Gang Starr,
Sam Rivers,
Pierre Henry,
La Düsseldorf,
the Germs,
The Sound,
Warsaw,
Mission of Burma,
Slick Rick,
The Pretty Things,
Subhumans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Prince Buster,
Robert Hood,
Thee Headcoats,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Seeds,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dave Gahan,
Michelle Simonal,
The United States of America,
Scan 7,
Todd Terry,
Lakeside,
Graham Central Station,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
kango's stein massive,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Durutti Column,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Donny Hathaway,
Eddi Front,
Glenn Branca,
Zapp,
The Blackbyrds,
Supertramp,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.