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 Norway and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 X-101 to the jazz 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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Das Ding,
Pylon,
T. Rex,
Slick Rick,
Max Romeo,
L. Decosne,
48th St. Collective,
Peter and Kerry,
Scan 7,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tom Boy,
Make Up,
Rod Modell,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Red Krayola,
Mo-Dettes,
UT,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marmalade,
Malaria!,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Drexciya,
Royal Trux,
the Swans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bluetip,
Todd Rundgren,
Gang Gang Dance,
Guru Guru,
The Skatalites,
Japan,
Junior Murvin,
The Durutti Column,
Mr. Review,
AZ,
Zero Boys,
Scott Walker,
Gerry Rafferty,
Stereo Dub,
Brand Nubian,
Sugar Minott,
Echospace,
Morten Harket,
Girls At Our Best!,
Frankie Knuckles,
Boz Scaggs,
the Human League,
Ponytail,
Sister Nancy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Chris Corsano,
Andrew Hill,
Average White Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Y Pants,
Man Parrish,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Smiths,
Au Pairs,
Laurel Aitken,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.