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 Turkmenistan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Technova to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Index,
Skriet,
Jeff Mills,
Tommy Roe,
The Stooges,
The Smoke,
Wally Richardson,
Rapeman,
The Blackbyrds,
The Victims,
The Shadows of Knight,
R.M.O.,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Lydon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Fatback Band,
The American Breed,
Au Pairs,
Y Pants,
Radiohead,
Eric B and Rakim,
Drive Like Jehu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Urselle,
Chris Corsano,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Remains,
Wire,
Whodini,
Mary Jane Girls,
Boz Scaggs,
The Monochrome Set,
Chris & Cosey,
Johnny Clarke,
Das Ding,
David Bowie,
Agitation Free,
Livin' Joy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kas Product,
Ten City,
Cecil Taylor,
The Velvet Underground,
The Knickerbockers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Sound,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Toni Rubio,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fat Boys,
Brass Construction,
Flipper,
Tom Boy,
New Order,
Alison Limerick,
Scan 7,
Marcia Griffiths,
Saccharine Trust,
Guru Guru,
The Grass Roots,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.