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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Columbus.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 T.S.O.L. to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Q65 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Harpers Bizarre,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jeru the Damaja,
Juan Atkins,
Ponytail,
D'Angelo,
The Divine Comedy,
Thee Headcoats,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Spandau Ballet,
Von Mondo,
The Last Poets,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Motions,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jeff Lynne,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Andrew Hill,
Nation of Ulysses,
OOIOO,
48th St. Collective,
ABC,
Camouflage,
Vladislav Delay,
Rapeman,
Jawbox,
Urselle,
The Zeros,
Marc Almond,
Circle Jerks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marmalade,
Ken Boothe,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Trumans Water,
Loose Ends,
Saccharine Trust,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tommy Roe,
Model 500,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Graham Central Station,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Blancmange,
New York Dolls,
Joensuu 1685,
Brick,
The Doors,
Idris Muhammad,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
David Axelrod,
The Moleskins,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jacques Brel,
Lyres,
In Retrospect,
Dark Day,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.