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 Mozambique 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba 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 CMW to the rap 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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Last Poets,
The Slackers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Count Five,
Rod Modell,
The Kinks,
Lucky Dragons,
Glambeats Corp.,
Royal Trux,
Dennis Brown,
Monks,
Roger Hodgson,
Todd Terry,
The Victims,
Brothers Johnson,
Nick Fraelich,
Yusef Lateef,
X-Ray Spex,
Sparks,
Soft Machine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Funky Four + One,
Fort Wilson Riot,
kango's stein massive,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rekid,
Cheater Slicks,
Barry Ungar,
The United States of America,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Piero Umiliani,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Curtis Mayfield,
Crispy Ambulance,
Wolf Eyes,
The Offenders,
Cameo,
Public Enemy,
One Last Wish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jerry's Kids,
Colin Newman,
Suburban Knight,
New Age Steppers,
the Soft Cell,
The Angels of Light,
LL Cool J,
Porter Ricks,
Soulsonic Force,
Juan Atkins,
Average White Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Motions,
Amazonics,
Model 500,
Siglo XX,
The Associates,
The Human League,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.