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 Guatemala and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fear to the techno 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
48th St. Collective,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kaleidoscope,
The Neon Judgement,
Rod Modell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Spoonie Gee,
The Barracudas,
Little Man,
Donald Byrd,
Minnie Riperton,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Remains,
the Human League,
Slick Rick,
Nils Olav,
The Durutti Column,
Minny Pops,
Scratch Acid,
Minutemen,
John Foxx,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Busters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jandek,
Johnny Clarke,
Roy Ayers,
Bauhaus,
Depeche Mode,
The Star Department,
Stereo Dub,
Aural Exciters,
The Gladiators,
Joe Finger,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Byrd,
The Move,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Happenings,
Make Up,
Shoche,
Lyres,
Ponytail,
June of 44,
Youth Brigade,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Nick Fraelich,
Ronnie Foster,
Harpers Bizarre,
Brick,
KRS-One,
Von Mondo,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Saints,
Grauzone,
Patti Smith,
The Names,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.