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 Fiji 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 MDC to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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?
Jawbox,
Rufus Thomas,
Morten Harket,
JFA,
The Pretty Things,
The Mummies,
Malaria!,
The Detroit Cobras,
Chris Corsano,
Young Marble Giants,
Sight & Sound,
Shoche,
Grandmaster Flash,
Deepchord,
Cybotron,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Radio Birdman,
Blossom Toes,
The Fortunes,
In Retrospect,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Average White Band,
cv313,
The Walker Brothers,
The Music Machine,
Schoolly D,
Oblivians,
Danielle Patucci,
The Kinks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Whodini,
Heaven 17,
MC5,
Eurythmics,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bob Dylan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Golliwogs,
Carl Craig,
T.S.O.L.,
Skriet,
Mark Hollis,
Kerri Chandler,
Little Man,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Neu!,
Wasted Youth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Amon Düül,
Mandrill,
Wings,
Lou Christie,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tubeway Army,
Ossler,
Bobby Byrd,
The Happenings,
Donald Byrd,
Gong,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.