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 El Salvador and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 Aloha Tigers to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Young Rascals,
Man Parrish,
Sarah Menescal,
Section 25,
the Human League,
Don Cherry,
Delon & Dalcan,
Swell Maps,
Unwound,
Maleditus Sound,
Nirvana,
The Real Kids,
The Index,
Q and Not U,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dawn Penn,
The Gun Club,
Scion,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gang Green,
Depeche Mode,
X-102,
Mr. Review,
The Toasters,
Eden Ahbez,
Skriet,
Charles Mingus,
Judy Mowatt,
New Age Steppers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wings,
MC5,
Matthew Halsall,
Intrusion,
The Mummies,
Barbara Tucker,
Agitation Free,
Pagans,
Clear Light,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Remains,
Byron Stingily,
JFA,
Amazonics,
Black Moon,
Minor Threat,
The Modern Lovers,
Dark Day,
Steve Hackett,
Scrapy,
Camberwell Now,
Todd Terry,
The Cramps,
Duran Duran,
Guru Guru,
Kenny Larkin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Donald Byrd,
Rekid,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.