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 Belarus 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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manila.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Khruangbin to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Q65,
Frankie Knuckles,
Inner City,
the Bar-Kays,
Piero Umiliani,
Japan,
DJ Style,
Metal Thangz,
Cameo,
Steve Hackett,
Todd Rundgren,
Spandau Ballet,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Donny Hathaway,
Bobby Byrd,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Roxette,
Colin Newman,
Peter & Gordon,
These Immortal Souls,
Organ,
The Monks,
The Cowsills,
Dual Sessions,
Von Mondo,
Das Ding,
Tom Boy,
Camberwell Now,
Ituana,
Jandek,
Hasil Adkins,
Intrusion,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Derrick May,
Bauhaus,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Black Moon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
B.T. Express,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Funkadelic,
Oblivians,
Ice-T,
Pere Ubu,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Yusef Lateef,
Tomorrow,
Goldenarms,
The Doors,
Byron Stingily,
Lyres,
James White and The Blacks,
David Bowie,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Radiohead,
Agitation Free,
Urselle,
Bush Tetras,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.