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 Cameroon and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pet Shop Boys to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Stockholm Monsters,
New York Dolls,
Bootsy Collins,
Little Man,
Lalo Schifrin,
Peter and Kerry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Hashim,
The Selecter,
Bad Manners,
Second Layer,
The Gap Band,
Pussy Galore,
The Index,
Gong,
Eric Copeland,
Flipper,
Siglo XX,
Dual Sessions,
Icehouse,
Dorothy Ashby,
David Bowie,
Joensuu 1685,
Inner City,
Gang Starr,
Marc Almond,
Fad Gadget,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roy Ayers,
Blake Baxter,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cameo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fall,
Radiopuhelimet,
Davy DMX,
Absolute Body Control,
Metal Thangz,
The Slits,
Slave,
E-Dancer,
MDC,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pole,
New Order,
Intrusion,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Nas,
Todd Terry,
Barrington Levy,
Spandau Ballet,
48th St. Collective,
Blancmange,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Swans,
Danielle Patucci,
Robert Wyatt,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Velvet Underground,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.