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 Kyrgyzstan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba 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 Brass Construction 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sällskapet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Gang Gang Dance,
Can,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Susan Cadogan,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Red Krayola,
Siglo XX,
The Shadows of Knight,
Morten Harket,
the Germs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Parry Music,
Sight & Sound,
Half Japanese,
Sarah Menescal,
Radio Birdman,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Wally Richardson,
Pere Ubu,
Pierre Henry,
Flipper,
Danielle Patucci,
Eric Copeland,
The Alarm Clocks,
Funkadelic,
Buzzcocks,
Camberwell Now,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kayak,
Cameo,
Aloha Tigers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Silicon Teens,
Yusef Lateef,
Michelle Simonal,
The Cure,
a-ha,
Black Sheep,
Suicide,
Arab on Radar,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Blake Baxter,
Don Cherry,
Unwound,
Jeff Lynne,
Big Daddy Kane,
Urselle,
Eric Dolphy,
Stiv Bators,
Vladislav Delay,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Clear Light,
Sound Behaviour,
Eric B and Rakim,
Motorama,
Slave,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Names,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.