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 Romania and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Michael McDonald 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Rosa Yemen,
Bizarre Inc.,
Heaven 17,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Cameo,
The Birthday Party,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Bananas,
Soul II Soul,
Kas Product,
Gang Gang Dance,
Neil Young,
8 Eyed Spy,
LL Cool J,
The Seeds,
The Barracudas,
Quando Quango,
Panda Bear,
Cheater Slicks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Minnie Riperton,
Amazonics,
Black Pus,
Nirvana,
The Red Krayola,
Basic Channel,
Deadbeat,
New York Dolls,
The Selecter,
Swell Maps,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gang Starr,
Gong,
Michelle Simonal,
The Doobie Brothers,
Carl Craig,
Kaleidoscope,
China Crisis,
Susan Cadogan,
Joensuu 1685,
Thee Headcoats,
Erasure,
Faust,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fat Boys,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Smog,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Talk Talk,
Neu!,
Warsaw,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Doors,
Eurythmics,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
A Certain Ratio,
Isaac Hayes,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.