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 El Salvador and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the dance 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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Sun Ra,
Bang On A Can,
Rhythm & Sound,
Connie Case,
The Index,
Gang of Four,
Circle Jerks,
Alphaville,
Saccharine Trust,
X-102,
Crash Course in Science,
Todd Terry,
Gichy Dan,
Ronan,
Vladislav Delay,
Livin' Joy,
Theoretical Girls,
Au Pairs,
Don Cherry,
The Music Machine,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ossler,
Sound Behaviour,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Young Rascals,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rosa Yemen,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Grey Daturas,
Los Fastidios,
Aswad,
Mad Mike,
Khruangbin,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
In Retrospect,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Depeche Mode,
The Grass Roots,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Mummies,
The Saints,
Excepter,
Funkadelic,
Letta Mbulu,
The Electric Prunes,
Organ,
Spoonie Gee,
Pharoah Sanders,
Das Ding,
Suburban Knight,
Bobby Byrd,
Can,
Pantaleimon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Delta 5,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Soulsonic Force,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Amazonics,
The Invisible,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.