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 Liberia and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare 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 Angry Samoans 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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
X-102,
John Holt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Matthew Bourne,
Ken Boothe,
The Fire Engines,
Severed Heads,
Stetsasonic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marvin Gaye,
X-Ray Spex,
Surgeon,
Pierre Henry,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sister Nancy,
Aswad,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Average White Band,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kaleidoscope,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
ABC,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ten City,
Gregory Isaacs,
Grauzone,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Womack,
Iggy Pop,
Girls At Our Best!,
Moss Icon,
Wings,
Robert Wyatt,
Rhythm & Sound,
Letta Mbulu,
Janne Schatter,
Malaria!,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Duran Duran,
Icehouse,
Soul II Soul,
Bootsy Collins,
The Pretty Things,
Popol Vuh,
Con Funk Shun,
The Mojo Men,
John Cale,
Cecil Taylor,
Roy Ayers,
Minutemen,
Gichy Dan,
Gabor Szabo,
Kayak,
Animal Collective,
Zero Boys,
Tubeway Army,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.