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 Samoa and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the grunge 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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kevin Saunderson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Malaria!,
Jeru the Damaja,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Desert Stars,
Sun Ra,
Spandau Ballet,
Kurtis Blow,
Babytalk,
The Doobie Brothers,
Joyce Sims,
Moby Grape,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Human League,
Pantaleimon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sight & Sound,
The Gap Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lou Christie,
Bobby Sherman,
Nas,
Scott Walker,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Popol Vuh,
Symarip,
The Neon Judgement,
Thee Headcoats,
Nik Kershaw,
The Knickerbockers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
JFA,
Minnie Riperton,
Grauzone,
Livin' Joy,
Sällskapet,
Smog,
Jerry's Kids,
James White and The Blacks,
B.T. Express,
Wings,
Gregory Isaacs,
U.S. Maple,
The Smoke,
Hashim,
DNA,
Lou Reed,
Laurel Aitken,
Ultra Naté,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joey Negro,
Lalo Schifrin,
Skarface,
Animal Collective,
Donny Hathaway,
Interpol,
The Monks,
The Real Kids,
The Misunderstood,
48th St. Collective,
Scratch Acid,
cv313,
The Grass Roots,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.