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 Guyana and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 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 Marine Girls to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Letta Mbulu,
Supertramp,
Andrew Hill,
Pantaleimon,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fugs,
Jeff Lynne,
Warsaw,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Graham Central Station,
Sex Pistols,
Colin Newman,
Pantytec,
Malaria!,
E-Dancer,
Make Up,
Excepter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Oblivians,
Khruangbin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nation of Ulysses,
Agitation Free,
Rotary Connection,
Dawn Penn,
Rufus Thomas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fort Wilson Riot,
R.M.O.,
DJ Sneak,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Avey Tare,
Eli Mardock,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Peter & Gordon,
Skarface,
Technova,
Public Enemy,
Wasted Youth,
Johnny Clarke,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lucky Dragons,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Popol Vuh,
Toni Rubio,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
H. Thieme,
10cc,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eddi Front,
Scrapy,
Zapp,
Lou Christie,
Chrome,
Marvin Gaye,
The Monochrome Set,
Neu!,
Kaleidoscope,
Junior Murvin,
Slave,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.