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 Bremen.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the funk 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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke 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?
Y Pants,
Danielle Patucci,
Joe Smooth,
Bang On A Can,
Ituana,
Sister Nancy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Drive Like Jehu,
Audionom,
Radio Birdman,
David Axelrod,
Country Teasers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Skarface,
Andrew Hill,
the Fania All-Stars,
Laurel Aitken,
kango's stein massive,
The Searchers,
Simply Red,
Boogie Down Productions,
Khruangbin,
Mission of Burma,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sandy B,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Babytalk,
Lakeside,
Ossler,
Fear,
Hardrive,
Grey Daturas,
Eve St. Jones,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Carl Craig,
Crime,
Agent Orange,
The Busters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Franke,
Boz Scaggs,
The Neon Judgement,
T.S.O.L.,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dawn Penn,
Davy DMX,
Kas Product,
The Gladiators,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lou Reed,
Faust,
Wasted Youth,
The Count Five,
Ice-T,
The Names,
Mo-Dettes,
Negative Approach,
New Age Steppers,
Skriet,
Sällskapet,
Quando Quango,
Idris Muhammad,
Electric Prunes,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.