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 Zimbabwe and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the crunk 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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Selecter,
Oblivians,
Derrick May,
The Wake,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eric Copeland,
Livin' Joy,
The Dirtbombs,
Camberwell Now,
Freddie Wadling,
The Slackers,
Lindisfarne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ohio Players,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Interpol,
Scratch Acid,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Agitation Free,
Mr. Review,
Kayak,
Basic Channel,
Joyce Sims,
Alton Ellis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Groovy Waters,
Lower 48,
Public Enemy,
Moebius,
Black Pus,
Rotary Connection,
Brass Construction,
Sarah Menescal,
Harmonia,
Spoonie Gee,
The Techniques,
Guru Guru,
Harry Pussy,
The Kinks,
Gang Starr,
Sam Rivers,
Quantec,
Susan Cadogan,
Adolescents,
Malaria!,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Blues Magoos,
Joensuu 1685,
Mantronix,
Heaven 17,
Mars,
Minny Pops,
Sonic Youth,
The Fall,
Soft Machine,
the Normal,
Pylon,
Crime,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.