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 Papua New Guinea and from Calgary.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 June of 44 to the disco 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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
The Star Department,
Joe Smooth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sun City Girls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Index,
E-Dancer,
The Selecter,
Pantytec,
Funkadelic,
Parry Music,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Radiohead,
Brass Construction,
Pere Ubu,
Altered Images,
New Age Steppers,
Bush Tetras,
Fela Kuti,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Peter and Kerry,
Unwound,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Q and Not U,
Camberwell Now,
Piero Umiliani,
The American Breed,
Royal Trux,
Yusef Lateef,
Joensuu 1685,
The Monks,
X-102,
the Swans,
Young Marble Giants,
Bill Wells,
Gregory Isaacs,
Steve Hackett,
Harry Pussy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Slits,
Idris Muhammad,
John Cale,
The Kinks,
Youth Brigade,
Radio Birdman,
Skaos,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
David Bowie,
Con Funk Shun,
Boz Scaggs,
Peter & Gordon,
The Monochrome Set,
Soft Machine,
Moss Icon,
Pierre Henry,
Desert Stars,
Barry Ungar,
Rakim,
Tommy Roe,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.