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 Macedonia and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Birthday Party to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Organ,
F. McDonald,
Spandau Ballet,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Suburban Knight,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Drexciya,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Steve Hackett,
EPMD,
Bang On A Can,
The Durutti Column,
The Slits,
Jeff Lynne,
AZ,
Ituana,
Godley & Creme,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pantytec,
DJ Sneak,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
cv313,
Jacob Miller,
The Human League,
Darondo,
Bush Tetras,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Icehouse,
The Five Americans,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gerry Rafferty,
June of 44,
Das Ding,
Bauhaus,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eurythmics,
Faust,
Stereo Dub,
Jeru the Damaja,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Yusef Lateef,
The Associates,
Hashim,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Dead C,
Accadde A,
Scan 7,
CMW,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Flag,
The Fugs,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.