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 Barbados and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Erykah Badu 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Guru Guru,
Con Funk Shun,
Gong,
Bobby Byrd,
Deadbeat,
Barrington Levy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jesper Dahlback,
Los Fastidios,
the Association,
Magma,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nico,
Maleditus Sound,
The Invisible,
Zapp,
Curtis Mayfield,
Graham Central Station,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Black Dice,
The Doors,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Offenders,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Trojans,
Altered Images,
The Toasters,
Swans,
48th St. Collective,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soul II Soul,
Albert Ayler,
Tubeway Army,
The Smiths,
X-102,
Pharoah Sanders,
X-101,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Robert Hood,
Joensuu 1685,
Stiv Bators,
Quadrant,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Alice Coltrane,
Ponytail,
James White and The Blacks,
Excepter,
Camberwell Now,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Angry Samoans,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Fuzztones,
Roger Hodgson,
Saccharine Trust,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Sheep,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.