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 Kiribati and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Robert Palmer 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Residents. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Ultra Naté,
Royal Trux,
Minutemen,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Oblivians,
Mad Mike,
Hashim,
The Moleskins,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Dave Clark Five,
Monolake,
Cheater Slicks,
Harmonia,
a-ha,
Desert Stars,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Henry Cow,
The Durutti Column,
Interpol,
Peter & Gordon,
June Days,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Newcleus,
Davy DMX,
Kaleidoscope,
The Evens,
Clear Light,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Sonics,
Zapp,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The New Christs,
Section 25,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sound Behaviour,
Harry Pussy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Suicide,
Eddi Front,
Youth Brigade,
Frankie Knuckles,
Supertramp,
Joey Negro,
Negative Approach,
Piero Umiliani,
Yellowson,
The Remains,
Arthur Verocai,
Pantytec,
Robert Wyatt,
Joe Finger,
Dawn Penn,
Massinfluence,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marvin Gaye,
Pagans,
Nico,
Idris Muhammad,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Skarface,
The Grass Roots,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.