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 Maldives and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the electroclash 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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lou Christie,
Dark Day,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mad Mike,
Amazonics,
Jeff Mills,
Ponytail,
The Kinks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wally Richardson,
Spoonie Gee,
Eyeless In Gaza,
X-Ray Spex,
The Dave Clark Five,
U.S. Maple,
Moss Icon,
The Sound,
The Zeros,
Kenny Larkin,
Gregory Isaacs,
Quantec,
Mars,
Sandy B,
Severed Heads,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jandek,
Soft Cell,
Aural Exciters,
Crash Course in Science,
Tubeway Army,
The Litter,
Vladislav Delay,
Supertramp,
Neu!,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gabor Szabo,
Marc Almond,
Brick,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Index,
Ten City,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cal Tjader,
Jawbox,
Aswad,
Minnie Riperton,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
PIL,
R.M.O.,
Pharoah Sanders,
Unwound,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Gories,
DJ Sneak,
Essential Logic,
Alison Limerick,
China Crisis,
Aaron Thompson,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.