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 Netherlands and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Sao Paulo.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the rap 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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DeepChord presents Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
Scion,
Lee Hazlewood,
Thompson Twins,
Judy Mowatt,
Tomorrow,
Youth Brigade,
Man Eating Sloth,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The American Breed,
Johnny Osbourne,
Brass Construction,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gil Scott Heron,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Graham Central Station,
Ossler,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Trumans Water,
Godley & Creme,
The Knickerbockers,
The Pretty Things,
Kayak,
Sex Pistols,
Das Ding,
Jacob Miller,
New Age Steppers,
Angry Samoans,
Average White Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Joe Smooth,
The Index,
Gregory Isaacs,
Quantec,
Royal Trux,
Rapeman,
Goldenarms,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Motions,
Yellowson,
Prince Buster,
Gang of Four,
Lakeside,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Brick,
Laurel Aitken,
The Happenings,
Darondo,
Altered Images,
KRS-One,
Joensuu 1685,
Make Up,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Move,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pantaleimon,
Whodini,
Bush Tetras,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.