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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Simply Red to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Deepchord,
Charles Mingus,
Big Daddy Kane,
Harmonia,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Shoche,
Arab on Radar,
Ohio Players,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mandrill,
One Last Wish,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Andrew Hill,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Black Flag,
Bob Dylan,
Youth Brigade,
Severed Heads,
the Slits,
Graham Central Station,
Khruangbin,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Country Teasers,
The Human League,
Trumans Water,
The New Christs,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fugs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Derrick May,
DJ Sneak,
Unrelated Segments,
Bobby Womack,
Danielle Patucci,
Junior Murvin,
Goldenarms,
The Mojo Men,
Soul II Soul,
New Age Steppers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Henry Cow,
Hashim,
Symarip,
Thompson Twins,
Nirvana,
MDC,
Second Layer,
The American Breed,
H. Thieme,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ten City,
Iggy Pop,
Fear,
Minutemen,
Morten Harket,
Donald Byrd,
LL Cool J,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.