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 Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 spring reverb 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 Thee Headcoats to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Godley & Creme,
The Gladiators,
Vladislav Delay,
Index,
Sugar Minott,
Ronnie Foster,
Charles Mingus,
Circle Jerks,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fela Kuti,
Bobby Byrd,
Maurizio,
Make Up,
Thompson Twins,
The Detroit Cobras,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Jacques Brel,
Pulsallama,
the Normal,
Amazonics,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Iggy Pop,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Excepter,
Juan Atkins,
Spandau Ballet,
Babytalk,
Andrew Hill,
The Beau Brummels,
Ultra Naté,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Barracudas,
Amon Düül,
Sixth Finger,
Max Romeo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marc Almond,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Derrick Morgan,
Das Ding,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bizarre Inc.,
Josef K,
Eli Mardock,
Aswad,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kerri Chandler,
The Remains,
Erykah Badu,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rekid,
Panda Bear,
Joe Finger,
Depeche Mode,
Sandy B,
The Happenings,
Connie Case,
In Retrospect,
Shuggie Otis,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.