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 Equatorial Guinea 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Detroit Cobras to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Robert Wyatt,
Albert Ayler,
Tres Demented,
Camouflage,
Fatback Band,
Black Moon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sixth Finger,
Jeff Mills,
The Cramps,
Charles Mingus,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lucky Dragons,
Gang of Four,
Glenn Branca,
Soul Sonic Force,
Carl Craig,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Robert Hood,
Ultravox,
Anthony Braxton,
Funky Four + One,
Amon Düül,
Little Man,
Vainqueur,
Clear Light,
Hoover,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Raincoats,
Sight & Sound,
Iggy Pop,
Don Cherry,
Warren Ellis,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dual Sessions,
Blossom Toes,
U.S. Maple,
Alphaville,
Mars,
Janne Schatter,
James Chance & The Contortions,
ABBA,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Can,
Jawbox,
Pussy Galore,
Andrew Hill,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rufus Thomas,
Cecil Taylor,
The Zeros,
Minnie Riperton,
The Young Rascals,
Boredoms,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nirvana,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.