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 Bahamas and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 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 Idris Muhammad to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Scan 7,
Inner City,
Kenny Larkin,
Donald Byrd,
The Smiths,
Adolescents,
Saccharine Trust,
Danielle Patucci,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Excepter,
Black Pus,
Nik Kershaw,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Marmalade,
Wally Richardson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Supertramp,
The Moleskins,
E-Dancer,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Womack,
Matthew Bourne,
Alton Ellis,
Robert Hood,
The Litter,
Oblivians,
New Order,
The Evens,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ossler,
Maleditus Sound,
Q and Not U,
Blossom Toes,
Isaac Hayes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Warsaw,
a-ha,
The Cowsills,
Scrapy,
Essential Logic,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sam Rivers,
Eric Dolphy,
Sixth Finger,
Absolute Body Control,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roy Ayers,
LL Cool J,
Rites of Spring,
AZ,
Throbbing Gristle,
Parry Music,
The Happenings,
Skaos,
Crooked Eye,
Eli Mardock,
Grey Daturas,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Vogues,
the Human League,
Swell Maps,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five.
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.