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 Korea South and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Scan 7,
Tubeway Army,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Audionom,
The Names,
Pole,
Roxy Music,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Radio Birdman,
Kerri Chandler,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sun City Girls,
Soft Machine,
Junior Murvin,
Guru Guru,
Popol Vuh,
Pantytec,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Section 25,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gabor Szabo,
The Saints,
Simply Red,
The Gun Club,
Sugar Minott,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rod Modell,
Fat Boys,
Ornette Coleman,
Rites of Spring,
Stetsasonic,
Oneida,
The Smoke,
Cheater Slicks,
Susan Cadogan,
Amazonics,
Black Pus,
The Monochrome Set,
Quando Quango,
the Bar-Kays,
Bad Manners,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Divine Comedy,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Sonics,
David McCallum,
The Golliwogs,
New York Dolls,
Dead Boys,
Grandmaster Flash,
Talk Talk,
Joe Smooth,
DJ Sneak,
Sonic Youth,
Smog,
Thompson Twins,
Monks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tommy Roe,
Nico,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.