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 Jamaica and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 F. McDonald to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama 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 '50s 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 Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Slave,
Godley & Creme,
Arcadia,
James White and The Blacks,
kango's stein massive,
Harry Pussy,
Masters at Work,
The Fire Engines,
Boogie Down Productions,
Reuben Wilson,
David Bowie,
Peter and Kerry,
The Selecter,
H. Thieme,
Eli Mardock,
The Misunderstood,
Sound Behaviour,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fad Gadget,
Tomorrow,
The Electric Prunes,
The Neon Judgement,
U.S. Maple,
Minor Threat,
Unrelated Segments,
Bill Near,
Marmalade,
Shuggie Otis,
Livin' Joy,
New York Dolls,
Quadrant,
Scan 7,
Siglo XX,
Loose Ends,
Sandy B,
Eve St. Jones,
the Sonics,
48th St. Collective,
Kerrie Biddell,
Spandau Ballet,
Patti Smith,
Clear Light,
The Blackbyrds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Organ,
Camouflage,
Todd Terry,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Motorama,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Vogues,
Porter Ricks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Youth Brigade,
Procol Harum,
Silicon Teens,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fuzztones,
Byron Stingily,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gregory Isaacs,
X-102,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.