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 Angola and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the theremin 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 Chris & Cosey to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
The Gladiators,
Roxy Music,
The Doobie Brothers,
Porter Ricks,
Q and Not U,
Hasil Adkins,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Sherman,
Jerry's Kids,
Janne Schatter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Five Americans,
Cymande,
Ronan,
Minutemen,
8 Eyed Spy,
Quantec,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Darondo,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Cowsills,
The Last Poets,
Lou Christie,
Steve Hackett,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Soulsonic Force,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Young Marble Giants,
Joyce Sims,
The Gories,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Panda Bear,
Eddi Front,
Outsiders,
Youth Brigade,
DJ Style,
La Düsseldorf,
Pharoah Sanders,
H. Thieme,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ten City,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Man Parrish,
Schoolly D,
The Names,
Alice Coltrane,
Los Fastidios,
Underground Resistance,
Mad Mike,
Marc Almond,
The Flesh Eaters,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Buckinghams,
Y Pants,
L. Decosne,
Little Man,
Charles Mingus,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.