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 Mozambique and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 snare 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the dance 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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Amazonics,
the Bar-Kays,
Hot Snakes,
Morten Harket,
Piero Umiliani,
10cc,
Mission of Burma,
Outsiders,
The Victims,
Charles Mingus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Yaz,
Technova,
Cybotron,
Unwound,
Blancmange,
Stetsasonic,
Make Up,
Goldenarms,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eve St. Jones,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Animal Collective,
Procol Harum,
Barbara Tucker,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Country Teasers,
DJ Sneak,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kenny Larkin,
Skaos,
Sex Pistols,
JFA,
Black Bananas,
T. Rex,
Archie Shepp,
The Misunderstood,
Liliput,
Quando Quango,
John Holt,
Gang Green,
Slave,
Kurtis Blow,
The Star Department,
Slick Rick,
X-Ray Spex,
Derrick Morgan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mary Jane Girls,
Panda Bear,
Lyres,
Carl Craig,
Bad Manners,
Spandau Ballet,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Todd Rundgren,
Blake Baxter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Matthew Halsall,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.