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 Botswana 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Vladislav Delay to the grime 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
John Holt,
The Techniques,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
D'Angelo,
Los Fastidios,
Mr. Review,
Ultravox,
The Walker Brothers,
Albert Ayler,
Main Source,
Niagra,
Animal Collective,
PIL,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ituana,
Boz Scaggs,
OOIOO,
Robert Görl,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Swans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Interpol,
Pagans,
Franke,
Icehouse,
Simply Red,
Cal Tjader,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nico,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Adolescents,
Alison Limerick,
The Beau Brummels,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tim Buckley,
Funkadelic,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Frankie Knuckles,
Graham Central Station,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rekid,
Joe Finger,
The Slits,
Jeru the Damaja,
Charles Mingus,
Dead Boys,
Eli Mardock,
Nils Olav,
Guru Guru,
Youth Brigade,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Martian,
The Litter,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.