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 Antigua and from Delhi.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Ralphi Rosario to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pantaleimon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Swans,
Suicide,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
K-Klass,
Fela Kuti,
Skaos,
Gang Starr,
the Fania All-Stars,
New Order,
The Pretty Things,
Mandrill,
The Kinks,
The American Breed,
The Electric Prunes,
Simply Red,
Unrelated Segments,
Bobby Byrd,
Livin' Joy,
Clear Light,
Iggy Pop,
Agitation Free,
Gong,
Hasil Adkins,
Agent Orange,
Eurythmics,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Maurizio,
Mr. Review,
Vainqueur,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Spoonie Gee,
the Soft Cell,
Scratch Acid,
Half Japanese,
Public Enemy,
The Happenings,
ABBA,
Morten Harket,
Organ,
Dead Boys,
Hardrive,
Crash Course in Science,
the Human League,
Archie Shepp,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bauhaus,
Magazine,
Gichy Dan,
Harmonia,
The Blackbyrds,
John Foxx,
Drive Like Jehu,
Talk Talk,
The Moody Blues,
Model 500,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.