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 Bahamas and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Gang Green to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Hoover,
Andrew Hill,
Lucky Dragons,
Japan,
Altered Images,
New Age Steppers,
Echospace,
Aural Exciters,
Quantec,
Siglo XX,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Anthony Braxton,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Gories,
Moss Icon,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nils Olav,
Avey Tare,
Traffic Nightmare,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Fire Engines,
DJ Style,
OOIOO,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sun Ra,
Icehouse,
The Sonics,
Tim Buckley,
Harmonia,
Nas,
Motorama,
Skriet,
Ornette Coleman,
Von Mondo,
Amon Düül,
Crime,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Outsiders,
Buzzcocks,
The Martian,
Rhythm & Sound,
Franke,
Barry Ungar,
Livin' Joy,
The Move,
Peter and Kerry,
Supertramp,
Joe Finger,
Pulsallama,
Nirvana,
The American Breed,
Boredoms,
Roger Hodgson,
Bauhaus,
Cameo,
The Remains,
The Red Krayola,
Easy Going,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lower 48,
Drexciya,
Camouflage,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.