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 Madagascar 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Eden Ahbez to the rap 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Reagan Youth,
Half Japanese,
The Seeds,
Essential Logic,
Darondo,
In Retrospect,
James White and The Blacks,
Connie Case,
Maurizio,
Boredoms,
Joe Smooth,
The Cramps,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Divine Comedy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ronan,
Mark Hollis,
PIL,
Piero Umiliani,
Flamin' Groovies,
Little Man,
Lou Christie,
Lalann,
Pharoah Sanders,
John Holt,
World's Most,
the Soft Cell,
Supertramp,
X-101,
a-ha,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Parry Music,
Dark Day,
Tim Buckley,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Dirtbombs,
Sandy B,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Alton Ellis,
The Selecter,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rosa Yemen,
Model 500,
Rekid,
Letta Mbulu,
Index,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pierre Henry,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lungfish,
The Sound,
Underground Resistance,
Yusef Lateef,
Crooked Eye,
Wire,
Camberwell Now,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.