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 Costa Rica and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 sitar 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 Pantytec 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Delon & Dalcan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Minny Pops,
Sister Nancy,
Aaron Thompson,
Los Fastidios,
Peter & Gordon,
ABBA,
Nas,
Susan Cadogan,
Faust,
Khruangbin,
Lalann,
Fad Gadget,
Boz Scaggs,
Lyres,
UT,
Animal Collective,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Blancmange,
Eric Dolphy,
Rapeman,
Anthony Braxton,
Throbbing Gristle,
Neu!,
Dawn Penn,
Underground Resistance,
Mission of Burma,
John Holt,
Quando Quango,
Malaria!,
New Order,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Infiniti,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ituana,
The Birthday Party,
Camouflage,
U.S. Maple,
Marine Girls,
Erykah Badu,
Mr. Review,
Metal Thangz,
The Neon Judgement,
Das Ding,
Nils Olav,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eddi Front,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Radiohead,
The Fugs,
The Skatalites,
Schoolly D,
The Knickerbockers,
Scion,
Lou Christie,
Simply Red,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.