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 Honduras and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Public Image Ltd. to the jazz 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
Joe Finger,
Lyres,
The Offenders,
The Litter,
Radio Birdman,
Ralphi Rosario,
Judy Mowatt,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Godley & Creme,
The Beau Brummels,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Smoke,
Juan Atkins,
Country Teasers,
Clear Light,
Con Funk Shun,
Camberwell Now,
Eurythmics,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Soul II Soul,
The Cowsills,
Joe Smooth,
Warsaw,
The Red Krayola,
Peter and Kerry,
Scan 7,
Parry Music,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Index,
10cc,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pole,
Alison Limerick,
Nation of Ulysses,
Aswad,
Sight & Sound,
Bobby Sherman,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Evens,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Depeche Mode,
the Association,
Lower 48,
Steve Hackett,
Brass Construction,
Anthony Braxton,
Funky Four + One,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Raincoats,
JFA,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rufus Thomas,
Motorama,
Bang On A Can,
Desert Stars,
Anakelly,
Susan Cadogan,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.