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 Ethiopia 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 mellotron 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Skarface,
OOIOO,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Sherman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Blake Baxter,
Glambeats Corp.,
Josef K,
PIL,
Juan Atkins,
The Cowsills,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Human League,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rakim,
Danielle Patucci,
Stiv Bators,
Bob Dylan,
Black Pus,
Ronnie Foster,
Ten City,
Connie Case,
Wire,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Minutemen,
The Star Department,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Buckinghams,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Grass Roots,
Barrington Levy,
Prince Buster,
Hasil Adkins,
The Sound,
Dual Sessions,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Iggy Pop,
Von Mondo,
Marine Girls,
Derrick May,
X-101,
DJ Sneak,
The Victims,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alison Limerick,
E-Dancer,
Easy Going,
Yaz,
Ohio Players,
Section 25,
Brick,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Donny Hathaway,
Pere Ubu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cybotron,
The American Breed,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.