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 Macedonia and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro 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 Fad Gadget to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
The Velvet Underground,
Desert Stars,
Drive Like Jehu,
Grey Daturas,
Godley & Creme,
CMW,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Electric Prunes,
Wally Richardson,
Bob Dylan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Vainqueur,
Thee Headcoats,
Shuggie Otis,
Model 500,
Arab on Radar,
Joensuu 1685,
Aswad,
Henry Cow,
Eyeless In Gaza,
DJ Style,
Talk Talk,
Tropical Tobacco,
Panda Bear,
The Modern Lovers,
Hasil Adkins,
Quando Quango,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gang of Four,
Simply Red,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Hardrive,
Slave,
X-102,
Heaven 17,
The Wake,
Grandmaster Flash,
Aaron Thompson,
The Standells,
Section 25,
Whodini,
Main Source,
Sister Nancy,
Ken Boothe,
Babytalk,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fatback Band,
Gang Green,
One Last Wish,
The Selecter,
Angry Samoans,
Anakelly,
Marine Girls,
Smog,
Thompson Twins,
The Moleskins,
Brick,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.