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 Kuwait and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the rap 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 The Doors. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cluster,
The Busters,
The Kinks,
The Move,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rufus Thomas,
The Vogues,
the Association,
The Real Kids,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
Y Pants,
Panda Bear,
Magma,
Donny Hathaway,
Michelle Simonal,
Kerrie Biddell,
Duran Duran,
Kayak,
Dawn Penn,
Procol Harum,
David McCallum,
Livin' Joy,
Wire,
The Gladiators,
Sarah Menescal,
Mission of Burma,
kango's stein massive,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Morten Harket,
Grey Daturas,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sparks,
H. Thieme,
Mantronix,
Banda Bassotti,
Quando Quango,
The Mummies,
Pylon,
Babytalk,
The Dead C,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Black Pus,
DNA,
Popol Vuh,
The Detroit Cobras,
Khruangbin,
Scion,
The J.B.'s,
The Cure,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Josef K,
The Red Krayola,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Alphaville,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.