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 Turkmenistan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 New York and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 808 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 Kerri Chandler to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Chris Corsano,
Popol Vuh,
The Slits,
Letta Mbulu,
Harry Pussy,
The Victims,
Moby Grape,
Zero Boys,
La Düsseldorf,
Jeff Mills,
Unwound,
Gil Scott Heron,
Urselle,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Camouflage,
Alice Coltrane,
In Retrospect,
David McCallum,
Heaven 17,
The Pretty Things,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Warsaw,
Junior Murvin,
Hoover,
Nils Olav,
Television Personalities,
The Velvet Underground,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Star Department,
Terry Callier,
The Black Dice,
Goldenarms,
Alison Limerick,
Liliput,
Monolake,
Oneida,
DJ Sneak,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rekid,
Drexciya,
Ponytail,
Accadde A,
Mr. Review,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mars,
The Saints,
Clear Light,
Hasil Adkins,
Donny Hathaway,
Barclay James Harvest,
Matthew Halsall,
The Mojo Men,
Jawbox,
Spandau Ballet,
Jeff Lynne,
Archie Shepp,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mandrill,
Ohio Players,
Eli Mardock,
K-Klass,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.