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 Mongolia and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the crunk 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
The Durutti Column,
KRS-One,
Reagan Youth,
Ten City,
Arcadia,
the Soft Cell,
The Seeds,
Robert Görl,
Crime,
K-Klass,
Organ,
Massinfluence,
Lalann,
Nils Olav,
Bobby Sherman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scion,
The Angels of Light,
Terrestrial Tones,
June of 44,
LL Cool J,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ultra Naté,
Ludus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cybotron,
The Misunderstood,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Amazonics,
Moss Icon,
Cymande,
The Sonics,
Byron Stingily,
The Trojans,
Lower 48,
June Days,
Popol Vuh,
Lebanon Hanover,
Desert Stars,
Sun Ra,
Outsiders,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Associates,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Toni Rubio,
Avey Tare,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lucky Dragons,
Unrelated Segments,
Public Enemy,
Altered Images,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nico,
Mandrill,
Lou Reed,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Offenders,
Lindisfarne,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.