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 Moldova and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 808 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 The Names to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
FM Einheit,
The Cramps,
Glenn Branca,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Radiohead,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Brick,
Fad Gadget,
Wasted Youth,
Erykah Badu,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Amazonics,
The Seeds,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sarah Menescal,
The Slackers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mo-Dettes,
Clear Light,
Laurel Aitken,
The Sonics,
Lungfish,
The Mojo Men,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Monks,
Second Layer,
D'Angelo,
Silicon Teens,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Albert Ayler,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Duran Duran,
Malaria!,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eddi Front,
Swell Maps,
Funky Four + One,
Goldenarms,
The Evens,
Gong,
Josef K,
China Crisis,
Ken Boothe,
Juan Atkins,
Scan 7,
Idris Muhammad,
Leonard Cohen,
Marmalade,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radio Birdman,
Hasil Adkins,
Althea and Donna,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.