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 Macedonia and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lyon.
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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Porter Ricks to the dance 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Amon Düül II,
Goldenarms,
Second Layer,
F. McDonald,
Deadbeat,
Hardrive,
Black Bananas,
Brass Construction,
Underground Resistance,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Moebius,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kerri Chandler,
The Last Poets,
Moby Grape,
The Fall,
The Blues Magoos,
Kas Product,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Sheep,
Piero Umiliani,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jandek,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Moody Blues,
Zero Boys,
X-101,
Make Up,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
John Cale,
The Birthday Party,
Mo-Dettes,
Sam Rivers,
Charles Mingus,
E-Dancer,
T.S.O.L.,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
H. Thieme,
Circle Jerks,
Mr. Review,
Anthony Braxton,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ossler,
The Smoke,
Popol Vuh,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Flag,
The Music Machine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
New Order,
the Soft Cell,
Nick Fraelich,
ABC,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.