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 Nigeria and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 organ 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 The Seeds 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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
The Sonics,
Spoonie Gee,
Chris Corsano,
Frankie Knuckles,
Crime,
Con Funk Shun,
Archie Shepp,
Second Layer,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Silicon Teens,
Faust,
Prince Buster,
Lightning Bolt,
KRS-One,
Minor Threat,
Black Moon,
The Fire Engines,
Lou Reed,
The Kinks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
a-ha,
Robert Hood,
Jacques Brel,
Quadrant,
The Vogues,
Hashim,
Rosa Yemen,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fat Boys,
The Monochrome Set,
Juan Atkins,
Siglo XX,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
cv313,
Camberwell Now,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Martian,
Fad Gadget,
Country Teasers,
Patti Smith,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Surgeon,
Black Sheep,
Tommy Roe,
Gabor Szabo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Slick Rick,
Scott Walker,
Sällskapet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Electric Prunes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pylon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kayak,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rites of Spring,
Rakim,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.