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 Honduras and from Manchester.
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 Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Frankie Knuckles to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day 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 mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Eric B and Rakim,
Steve Hackett,
Slick Rick,
Dawn Penn,
Blancmange,
Black Bananas,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aswad,
Wings,
Inner City,
the Bar-Kays,
Ohio Players,
Stereo Dub,
Oblivians,
Adolescents,
Malaria!,
The Slits,
Fad Gadget,
KRS-One,
Tom Boy,
Cecil Taylor,
Todd Rundgren,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eric Dolphy,
Kenny Larkin,
Tomorrow,
Joyce Sims,
The Gun Club,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Matthew Bourne,
The Blues Magoos,
China Crisis,
Ponytail,
The Star Department,
Man Eating Sloth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Last Poets,
Shoche,
Unwound,
Sixth Finger,
Anakelly,
Kerri Chandler,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Germs,
Hot Snakes,
Rufus Thomas,
Kas Product,
Electric Prunes,
Technova,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Japan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Can,
UT,
Althea and Donna,
Chris Corsano,
Theoretical Girls,
The Blackbyrds,
Country Teasers,
Bad Manners,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.