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 Latvia and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 8 Eyed Spy to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
The Dead C,
Mars,
Iggy Pop,
Mo-Dettes,
Andrew Hill,
the Slits,
Peter and Kerry,
Roxy Music,
Public Enemy,
Ultimate Spinach,
48th St. Collective,
Steve Hackett,
Trumans Water,
Sällskapet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Das Ding,
The Black Dice,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Monks,
Tommy Roe,
T.S.O.L.,
T. Rex,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Inner City,
AZ,
The Mummies,
Jeff Lynne,
The Techniques,
Johnny Clarke,
Arab on Radar,
The Motions,
Grandmaster Flash,
Barbara Tucker,
Camberwell Now,
Bluetip,
The Cure,
Nico,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Aswad,
The Leaves,
The Evens,
Kerrie Biddell,
Deakin,
Yusef Lateef,
Black Moon,
FM Einheit,
Funky Four + One,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rosa Yemen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Roy Ayers,
Youth Brigade,
Kas Product,
Liliput,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rakim,
Crooked Eye,
Jeru the Damaja,
Schoolly D,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ohio Players,
The Gap Band,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.