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 Belize and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marvin Gaye to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fall,
Barry Ungar,
Nils Olav,
Erykah Badu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
H. Thieme,
The Trojans,
The Gladiators,
Aloha Tigers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Funkadelic,
Fat Boys,
Jerry's Kids,
Parry Music,
June of 44,
Arthur Verocai,
Mary Jane Girls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lindisfarne,
Eve St. Jones,
Wasted Youth,
Magma,
June Days,
Eric Copeland,
Kenny Larkin,
China Crisis,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gong,
MDC,
T. Rex,
Country Teasers,
The Zeros,
Qualms,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
ABC,
Chris & Cosey,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Connie Case,
Monks,
Television,
Panda Bear,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Cybotron,
Anakelly,
Scientists,
Adolescents,
Metal Thangz,
Ossler,
F. McDonald,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lyres,
Althea and Donna,
Pole,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.