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 Norway and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 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 Lou Reed to the crunk 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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig 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?
Sexual Harrassment,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eddi Front,
Gang Green,
Zero Boys,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cymande,
The Buckinghams,
Kas Product,
Pierre Henry,
Lou Christie,
Barrington Levy,
Bobby Womack,
Boz Scaggs,
Masters at Work,
Piero Umiliani,
Desert Stars,
Spandau Ballet,
Massinfluence,
Television Personalities,
Anakelly,
Rekid,
Simply Red,
John Foxx,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Henry Cow,
June of 44,
Tommy Roe,
Leonard Cohen,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Hardrive,
Pylon,
Sound Behaviour,
LL Cool J,
Radio Birdman,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Organ,
Archie Shepp,
Qualms,
Tomorrow,
Fugazi,
Lightning Bolt,
Alice Coltrane,
The Red Krayola,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sandy B,
The Detroit Cobras,
Arcadia,
Byron Stingily,
Harmonia,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ituana,
Scott Walker,
Fat Boys,
Liliput,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.