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 Bhutan and from Shanghai.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mars to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Saints,
The Moody Blues,
Little Man,
Flash Fearless,
Kevin Saunderson,
Royal Trux,
Letta Mbulu,
Arthur Verocai,
Faraquet,
Patti Smith,
Desert Stars,
Ituana,
The Zeros,
the Soft Cell,
Idris Muhammad,
the Germs,
Aural Exciters,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Misunderstood,
Animal Collective,
Make Up,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Radiohead,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pole,
Alton Ellis,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marine Girls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Fania All-Stars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cal Tjader,
The United States of America,
The Monochrome Set,
Soul Sonic Force,
Erykah Badu,
Robert Wyatt,
Janne Schatter,
Youth Brigade,
F. McDonald,
Mr. Review,
Lucky Dragons,
Darondo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Japan,
Anthony Braxton,
X-102,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
D'Angelo,
The Red Krayola,
The Tremeloes,
Sun Ra,
Charles Mingus,
The Divine Comedy,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang Gang Dance,
Chris & Cosey,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.