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 Russia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Porter Ricks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Cure. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare 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 guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
The Gladiators,
Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
Kenny Larkin,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Q65,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Motions,
Reuben Wilson,
The Smoke,
Intrusion,
8 Eyed Spy,
Quadrant,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Au Pairs,
Basic Channel,
Juan Atkins,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hoover,
Deakin,
Althea and Donna,
Idris Muhammad,
Gichy Dan,
New Age Steppers,
Anakelly,
Kurtis Blow,
Bluetip,
Todd Rundgren,
John Holt,
Mr. Review,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mad Mike,
Barclay James Harvest,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Moleskins,
Talk Talk,
Delta 5,
Can,
Bobby Byrd,
The Music Machine,
Youth Brigade,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mantronix,
Negative Approach,
Rakim,
Pulsallama,
The Durutti Column,
Cheater Slicks,
Morten Harket,
Pylon,
Matthew Bourne,
Jacob Miller,
Q and Not U,
E-Dancer,
Bad Manners,
Erasure,
Jawbox,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.