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 Tajikistan and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Gang Gang Dance to the grime 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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Ronnie Foster,
Scion,
Clear Light,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Moss Icon,
Soft Cell,
Bluetip,
The Skatalites,
The Techniques,
Angry Samoans,
Lalann,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jacob Miller,
Second Layer,
Marcia Griffiths,
Henry Cow,
Suicide,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Joy Division,
Ronan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Motions,
Tears for Fears,
The Cure,
Donald Byrd,
Radiohead,
Rod Modell,
The New Christs,
Cecil Taylor,
Magazine,
The Five Americans,
Schoolly D,
Pole,
The Cramps,
Sun Ra,
Ohio Players,
Animal Collective,
Wolf Eyes,
The Stooges,
Lou Reed,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hashim,
Country Teasers,
Marine Girls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Zero Boys,
These Immortal Souls,
Blancmange,
Jawbox,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
James White and The Blacks,
Joey Negro,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dennis Brown,
D'Angelo,
The Velvet Underground,
Can,
Skaos,
Joe Finger,
Sex Pistols,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.