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 Korea South and from Hong Kong.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Altered Images,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Prince Buster,
Ralphi Rosario,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Five Americans,
Rites of Spring,
The Smiths,
The Barracudas,
L. Decosne,
Warsaw,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rakim,
The Gories,
Audionom,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Bar-Kays,
Ice-T,
Von Mondo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wally Richardson,
Ludus,
Hoover,
Amon Düül II,
The Monochrome Set,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Black Sheep,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nik Kershaw,
The Vogues,
Jandek,
Mars,
Con Funk Shun,
Bob Dylan,
Goldenarms,
Symarip,
Delon & Dalcan,
Reagan Youth,
New Order,
The United States of America,
Scan 7,
T.S.O.L.,
John Cale,
the Association,
The Trojans,
Todd Rundgren,
Patti Smith,
Alison Limerick,
In Retrospect,
A Certain Ratio,
Janne Schatter,
Jerry's Kids,
Wolf Eyes,
Silicon Teens,
Marc Almond,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.