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 Slovenia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Evens to the crunk 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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Cluster,
Lungfish,
Lalann,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Davy DMX,
Groovy Waters,
Eurythmics,
Shoche,
Robert Görl,
Underground Resistance,
Motorama,
Scientists,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Connie Case,
Outsiders,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Cure,
E-Dancer,
John Holt,
Skriet,
Charles Mingus,
Kurtis Blow,
Sonny Sharrock,
Blake Baxter,
The Fugs,
Marmalade,
Don Cherry,
Mandrill,
Depeche Mode,
Ken Boothe,
Cecil Taylor,
Television,
Janne Schatter,
Wasted Youth,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pere Ubu,
Monolake,
The Stooges,
Funkadelic,
The Litter,
Erykah Badu,
Arab on Radar,
Gichy Dan,
The Seeds,
Supertramp,
Roxy Music,
Robert Wyatt,
Fear,
Andrew Hill,
Wally Richardson,
Lindisfarne,
Black Flag,
Simply Red,
Anakelly,
Malaria!,
Fugazi,
Vladislav Delay,
The Count Five,
Wire,
Radio Birdman,
U.S. Maple,
Thompson Twins,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.