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 Suriname and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 Theoretical Girls to the rap 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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Barry Ungar,
Warren Ellis,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Isaac Hayes,
Yazoo,
The Moleskins,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Aloha Tigers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lindisfarne,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rakim,
Sonic Youth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Frankie Knuckles,
Buzzcocks,
Dawn Penn,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Sound,
Bush Tetras,
the Human League,
Radiohead,
Amazonics,
New Order,
B.T. Express,
Duran Duran,
Nico,
Wings,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Masters at Work,
Laurel Aitken,
Junior Murvin,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sandy B,
Oneida,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Newcleus,
Idris Muhammad,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tomorrow,
The Fortunes,
Heaven 17,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Red Krayola,
X-102,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Johnny Clarke,
Radio Birdman,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Slackers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lucky Dragons,
The Searchers,
Crash Course in Science,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.