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 Niger and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Letta Mbulu to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Monochrome Set,
Pantaleimon,
Sonic Youth,
The Moleskins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Das Ding,
Man Parrish,
Eddi Front,
Roy Ayers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Aloha Tigers,
The Trojans,
Icehouse,
Groovy Waters,
The Martian,
The Dave Clark Five,
Black Moon,
Al Stewart,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
B.T. Express,
Pulsallama,
Cheater Slicks,
Peter and Kerry,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ultimate Spinach,
T. Rex,
Porter Ricks,
Soft Cell,
Scratch Acid,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sister Nancy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Yazoo,
Bronski Beat,
The Doors,
Urselle,
Public Enemy,
Organ,
Newcleus,
Index,
Niagra,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Clear Light,
The Human League,
The Divine Comedy,
The Cure,
Soft Machine,
Quantec,
The Sonics,
Ohio Players,
Magazine,
48th St. Collective,
Black Sheep,
Buzzcocks,
FM Einheit,
The Dead C,
Pierre Henry,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radiopuhelimet,
James White and The Blacks,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.