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 Hungary and from Columbus.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator 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 Deadbeat to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eurythmics,
The Flesh Eaters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ronnie Foster,
The Residents,
10cc,
Soft Cell,
Cecil Taylor,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rites of Spring,
The Offenders,
Theoretical Girls,
Schoolly D,
John Lydon,
Television Personalities,
La Düsseldorf,
Underground Resistance,
B.T. Express,
The Human League,
Bob Dylan,
Wolf Eyes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The J.B.'s,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Agitation Free,
John Coltrane,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
F. McDonald,
Chris & Cosey,
The Modern Lovers,
Flash Fearless,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Monolake,
The Smiths,
Stereo Dub,
The Victims,
The Move,
Deepchord,
Minor Threat,
The Golliwogs,
Interpol,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Basic Channel,
The Mummies,
The Velvet Underground,
The Black Dice,
Arab on Radar,
Yellowson,
Bill Near,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Das Ding,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Quantec,
Cheater Slicks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.