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 Laos and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Victims to the rock 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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Arcadia,
Al Stewart,
Sight & Sound,
The Moleskins,
Soulsonic Force,
The United States of America,
Pierre Henry,
Letta Mbulu,
Goldenarms,
Gang Green,
Sugar Minott,
Yusef Lateef,
Bauhaus,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Doors,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Con Funk Shun,
Bluetip,
Newcleus,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Music Machine,
Tom Boy,
The American Breed,
Index,
Pere Ubu,
The Star Department,
This Heat,
H. Thieme,
Barry Ungar,
the Fania All-Stars,
Amon Düül II,
The Cure,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Carl Craig,
Siglo XX,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Model 500,
Donald Byrd,
Flamin' Groovies,
Peter & Gordon,
The Modern Lovers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gong,
Sällskapet,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Freddie Wadling,
Scientists,
Eurythmics,
Pagans,
Silicon Teens,
KRS-One,
The Durutti Column,
Bill Near,
UT,
Kurtis Blow,
K-Klass,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.