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 Italy and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Cybotron to the rap 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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
8 Eyed Spy,
Matthew Halsall,
D'Angelo,
Yellowson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Carl Craig,
Ludus,
John Holt,
Brand Nubian,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fugazi,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Zeros,
World's Most,
The Walker Brothers,
Basic Channel,
Organ,
Joe Smooth,
Interpol,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Barrington Levy,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
cv313,
Warsaw,
The Barracudas,
The Motions,
Matthew Bourne,
The Modern Lovers,
Y Pants,
Letta Mbulu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cymande,
Loose Ends,
Minor Threat,
Gang Green,
ABBA,
Pagans,
The Dirtbombs,
Marmalade,
The Victims,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cowsills,
The Seeds,
Spoonie Gee,
Pylon,
Clear Light,
Magma,
Faust,
Radiopuhelimet,
Franke,
Marcia Griffiths,
48th St. Collective,
Radiohead,
The Last Poets,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Wake,
The Remains,
The American Breed,
Sarah Menescal,
Lalann,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.