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 Papua New Guinea and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bluetip to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Magazine,
Sister Nancy,
Nirvana,
Kenny Larkin,
Severed Heads,
The Cramps,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mark Hollis,
Chris & Cosey,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jerry's Kids,
Lindisfarne,
JFA,
Bad Manners,
The Fortunes,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Standells,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jesper Dahlback,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oblivians,
Simply Red,
Massinfluence,
Quadrant,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Moss Icon,
Mr. Review,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Index,
Marvin Gaye,
Bronski Beat,
Robert Görl,
The Monks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Victims,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mad Mike,
Pere Ubu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Letta Mbulu,
Archie Shepp,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Average White Band,
The Searchers,
Jeff Mills,
The Blues Magoos,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Joe Smooth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Negative Approach,
Nils Olav,
The Invisible,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Skaos,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Main Source,
Leonard Cohen,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.