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 Rwanda and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Evens. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
The Cramps,
Zapp,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pole,
Gabor Szabo,
The Gun Club,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Wally Richardson,
The Techniques,
Black Flag,
The Star Department,
KRS-One,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Drexciya,
Marvin Gaye,
Jacques Brel,
Aural Exciters,
Y Pants,
The American Breed,
Josef K,
Derrick Morgan,
Smog,
The Pretty Things,
Oblivians,
Guru Guru,
Sex Pistols,
Faraquet,
Soulsonic Force,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Blues Magoos,
the Swans,
Graham Central Station,
Derrick May,
Arcadia,
Laurel Aitken,
Con Funk Shun,
Television Personalities,
New Order,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Newcleus,
The Seeds,
Ultravox,
Archie Shepp,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Stereo Dub,
Lou Reed,
Moby Grape,
Andrew Hill,
The Sound,
Jawbox,
Popol Vuh,
This Heat,
Shoche,
Jeff Mills,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Babytalk,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.