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 Portugal and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Sarah Menescal to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
DJ Style,
Slick Rick,
Fatback Band,
Banda Bassotti,
The Evens,
The Litter,
Public Image Ltd.,
Circle Jerks,
ABBA,
Lalann,
Kool Moe Dee,
Morten Harket,
Avey Tare,
The Electric Prunes,
Depeche Mode,
The Monks,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Slits,
Soul Sonic Force,
Anakelly,
the Association,
John Cale,
Yusef Lateef,
Flipper,
Audionom,
Swell Maps,
Theoretical Girls,
Big Daddy Kane,
Danielle Patucci,
James White and The Blacks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Juan Atkins,
The Pretty Things,
Procol Harum,
Kerri Chandler,
Can,
Marmalade,
Mark Hollis,
The Last Poets,
Sarah Menescal,
MC5,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Susan Cadogan,
Inner City,
Gil Scott Heron,
The American Breed,
Moss Icon,
Tubeway Army,
Letta Mbulu,
Scion,
Eric Copeland,
Deadbeat,
Babytalk,
Black Pus,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Warren Ellis,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Normal,
Cluster,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.