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 Brazil and from New York.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Frankie Knuckles 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Hot Snakes,
The Sound,
Bobby Sherman,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Walker Brothers,
Scion,
Crime,
The Gap Band,
Jawbox,
Black Sheep,
The Vogues,
Ultimate Spinach,
Technova,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pharoah Sanders,
Faust,
Avey Tare,
Kayak,
Crash Course in Science,
the Slits,
The Mighty Diamonds,
James White and The Blacks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Alice Coltrane,
Yellowson,
Aloha Tigers,
Pagans,
Marvin Gaye,
Suicide,
Camberwell Now,
Man Parrish,
T.S.O.L.,
Stereo Dub,
Wally Richardson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Public Enemy,
Sound Behaviour,
Unrelated Segments,
Moss Icon,
Matthew Bourne,
Panda Bear,
The Mummies,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
cv313,
Moby Grape,
Boredoms,
Pole,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Steve Hackett,
Heaven 17,
Sixth Finger,
LL Cool J,
The Birthday Party,
Max Romeo,
Inner City,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Buzzcocks,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.