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 Gabon and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Star Department to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Scrapy,
The Vogues,
The Moleskins,
Marvin Gaye,
Amon Düül II,
Magazine,
Radio Birdman,
cv313,
Blancmange,
The Music Machine,
Adolescents,
Make Up,
D'Angelo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wasted Youth,
Index,
ABBA,
E-Dancer,
Boz Scaggs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eyeless In Gaza,
AZ,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kerrie Biddell,
Siglo XX,
MC5,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tim Buckley,
T. Rex,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Sherman,
Harpers Bizarre,
Parry Music,
Eric B and Rakim,
Simply Red,
Altered Images,
Electric Light Orchestra,
David Bowie,
Crispian St. Peters,
Godley & Creme,
Lyres,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kenny Larkin,
Sugar Minott,
The Knickerbockers,
DJ Sneak,
The Happenings,
Lightning Bolt,
Big Daddy Kane,
Average White Band,
Angry Samoans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Carl Craig,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Prince Buster,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ossler,
Swans,
Soft Machine,
Circle Jerks,
Clear Light,
R.M.O.,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago.
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.