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 Uzbekistan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 güiro 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 New Christs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Victims,
Cybotron,
D'Angelo,
New Order,
Niagra,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Tremeloes,
The Flesh Eaters,
B.T. Express,
Gichy Dan,
Drexciya,
Negative Approach,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeff Lynne,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Moon,
Grauzone,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
E-Dancer,
Ultimate Spinach,
Adolescents,
Aswad,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Con Funk Shun,
Mr. Review,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sonic Youth,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Khruangbin,
Agitation Free,
Thee Headcoats,
Sound Behaviour,
Marine Girls,
Bad Manners,
Gregory Isaacs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Buzzcocks,
ABBA,
Desert Stars,
Matthew Halsall,
Joyce Sims,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Swans,
The Black Dice,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Slave,
Talk Talk,
Das Ding,
Von Mondo,
The Gap Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Technova,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Alison Limerick,
Max Romeo,
Ornette Coleman,
The Last Poets,
Tomorrow,
Zapp,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.