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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Blake Baxter to the jazz 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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
L. Decosne,
Make Up,
Groovy Waters,
Chrome,
Crime,
Tommy Roe,
The Trojans,
Lou Reed,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Stiv Bators,
Das Ding,
the Bar-Kays,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Matthew Bourne,
Bootsy Collins,
Bill Near,
Arcadia,
The Velvet Underground,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Toasters,
Zero Boys,
Aswad,
Drexciya,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Glenn Branca,
The Music Machine,
Suicide,
Goldenarms,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jacques Brel,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Golliwogs,
Surgeon,
D'Angelo,
Stetsasonic,
Shuggie Otis,
The Young Rascals,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
UT,
Monolake,
Cluster,
A Certain Ratio,
CMW,
Minor Threat,
Symarip,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Durutti Column,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ronan,
Rites of Spring,
Fatback Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Blues Magoos,
Bill Wells,
Roxette,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Letta Mbulu,
Malaria!,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.