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 Syria and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba 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 Second Layer to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sällskapet,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Shuggie Otis,
The Blackbyrds,
Drexciya,
Jawbox,
Eve St. Jones,
June Days,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
a-ha,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Crooked Eye,
The Music Machine,
Qualms,
These Immortal Souls,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Slackers,
Connie Case,
KRS-One,
Ultra Naté,
Kenny Larkin,
The Evens,
Skaos,
The Victims,
Schoolly D,
The Wake,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Techniques,
Underground Resistance,
Lou Reed,
Funkadelic,
Susan Cadogan,
Gang of Four,
T. Rex,
Scion,
Brand Nubian,
Grey Daturas,
The Moody Blues,
Rufus Thomas,
Altered Images,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Brick,
Half Japanese,
Television,
Liliput,
Mad Mike,
Derrick Morgan,
F. McDonald,
Lucky Dragons,
Youth Brigade,
Ludus,
B.T. Express,
Tropical Tobacco,
Television Personalities,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Human League,
Jimmy McGriff,
Glenn Branca,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.