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 Vietnam and from Johannesburg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Harmonia,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
One Last Wish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ronnie Foster,
Chris Corsano,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lalann,
The Litter,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Heaven 17,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Iggy Pop,
the Slits,
Bootsy Collins,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gang Starr,
Organ,
Bang On A Can,
the Association,
Ossler,
Pagans,
Rod Modell,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Silicon Teens,
Brick,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Metal Thangz,
The Electric Prunes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roy Ayers,
Nas,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
John Holt,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tears for Fears,
The New Christs,
Joe Finger,
Franke,
Fugazi,
Fela Kuti,
Laurel Aitken,
Hot Snakes,
Fluxion,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jawbox,
Donald Byrd,
Spoonie Gee,
Agent Orange,
Boz Scaggs,
Bobby Sherman,
In Retrospect,
Amazonics,
Marine Girls,
The Associates,
48th St. Collective,
Adolescents,
Don Cherry,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.