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 Burkina and from New York.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 arpeggiator 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 Youth Brigade to the disco 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
Cal Tjader,
Al Stewart,
DJ Sneak,
Joey Negro,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Camouflage,
Scott Walker,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Saccharine Trust,
PIL,
Deakin,
Arab on Radar,
Gong,
The Fugs,
Goldenarms,
Lucky Dragons,
Hasil Adkins,
Tubeway Army,
Blancmange,
Graham Central Station,
Rhythm & Sound,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Tremeloes,
Fluxion,
48th St. Collective,
Agent Orange,
FM Einheit,
Suburban Knight,
Television,
Skriet,
Deadbeat,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fat Boys,
Soft Machine,
Hot Snakes,
Young Marble Giants,
Tomorrow,
The Gun Club,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Invisible,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Niagra,
Ossler,
The Smiths,
Simply Red,
Janne Schatter,
The Fuzztones,
The American Breed,
Black Sheep,
Sun City Girls,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Stooges,
Symarip,
Youth Brigade,
Man Parrish,
Can,
Cameo,
Angry Samoans,
Idris Muhammad,
Technova,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.