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 Belize and from Sao Paulo.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Khruangbin to the dance 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Siglo XX,
Easy Going,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pierre Henry,
The Modern Lovers,
Bang On A Can,
Dead Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Avey Tare,
the Fania All-Stars,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ponytail,
the Normal,
This Heat,
Scratch Acid,
the Association,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Yaz,
Neu!,
Laurel Aitken,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Zeros,
Sun Ra,
Erasure,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Funky Four + One,
Icehouse,
D'Angelo,
The Toasters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Average White Band,
The Gap Band,
Ituana,
Sexual Harrassment,
Radio Birdman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Silicon Teens,
Howard Jones,
Niagra,
The Fortunes,
Animal Collective,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Moleskins,
Patti Smith,
Camouflage,
Au Pairs,
Camberwell Now,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Nick Fraelich,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Star Department,
Dark Day,
Scrapy,
The Sound,
Thee Headcoats,
Eurythmics,
Funkadelic,
The Count Five,
The Gladiators,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.