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 Lebanon and from Tehran.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 Ultimate Spinach to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Y Pants,
Young Marble Giants,
Laurel Aitken,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lower 48,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Echospace,
Severed Heads,
K-Klass,
Scratch Acid,
Oblivians,
Piero Umiliani,
Joey Negro,
Oneida,
Section 25,
Cymande,
Warsaw,
Crash Course in Science,
Gang Green,
David Axelrod,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Swans,
The Associates,
Wally Richardson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Massinfluence,
Bill Wells,
Circle Jerks,
MDC,
Arthur Verocai,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dennis Brown,
Groovy Waters,
Peter and Kerry,
This Heat,
Technova,
Todd Terry,
Carl Craig,
Youth Brigade,
The Sound,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Das Ding,
The Monochrome Set,
Sound Behaviour,
The Mojo Men,
Chris Corsano,
The Red Krayola,
Fugazi,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Model 500,
New Age Steppers,
Mo-Dettes,
Whodini,
Idris Muhammad,
Urselle,
Bad Manners,
Harmonia,
Rapeman,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.