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 Spain and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Evens. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
The Gun Club,
Derrick May,
the Swans,
FM Einheit,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soul II Soul,
Judy Mowatt,
Flipper,
Audionom,
Half Japanese,
Jeff Mills,
Oneida,
Morten Harket,
The Index,
Lower 48,
Black Pus,
Goldenarms,
The Slackers,
Althea and Donna,
Index,
Drexciya,
Lou Reed,
The Dead C,
the Slits,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Divine Comedy,
the Human League,
Ronnie Foster,
The Five Americans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Buckinghams,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Essential Logic,
Oblivians,
Crooked Eye,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Hashim,
The Leaves,
Janne Schatter,
the Fania All-Stars,
Charles Mingus,
Tom Boy,
The Monochrome Set,
Boogie Down Productions,
Man Parrish,
Neil Young,
Mr. Review,
The Smoke,
Scott Walker,
June of 44,
ABBA,
Chris Corsano,
The Invisible,
The Gories,
Liliput,
Gang of Four,
Prince Buster,
Pussy Galore,
Derrick Morgan,
DJ Style,
Sex Pistols,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.