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 Paraguay and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 linndrum 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 LL Cool J to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Tommy Roe,
Scratch Acid,
Pantytec,
Con Funk Shun,
Terry Callier,
Don Cherry,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Piero Umiliani,
Todd Terry,
Ken Boothe,
Barry Ungar,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mad Mike,
Kayak,
The Fire Engines,
Erasure,
Grey Daturas,
Metal Thangz,
the Human League,
Infiniti,
Wasted Youth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tom Boy,
Lyres,
Moss Icon,
Susan Cadogan,
Roxy Music,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bluetip,
Little Man,
The Associates,
Quantec,
Echospace,
Tomorrow,
the Bar-Kays,
Nik Kershaw,
Television,
The Gories,
Judy Mowatt,
The Dirtbombs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Unrelated Segments,
Interpol,
Funkadelic,
48th St. Collective,
The Gun Club,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Alarm Clocks,
OOIOO,
Nas,
Rites of Spring,
June of 44,
Pantaleimon,
The Blackbyrds,
Joe Finger,
Swell Maps,
Funky Four + One,
The Evens,
John Holt,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.