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 the UAE and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tropical Tobacco to the grunge 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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Cowsills,
Royal Trux,
Whodini,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Oneida,
The Doors,
Marmalade,
ABC,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Parry Music,
June Days,
Morten Harket,
The Last Poets,
MDC,
Magazine,
Bang On A Can,
Au Pairs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Kinks,
Marshall Jefferson,
June of 44,
Sällskapet,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Gories,
Todd Terry,
Harry Pussy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Skatalites,
Bill Near,
Josef K,
Fatback Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tommy Roe,
Terry Callier,
Aswad,
Crooked Eye,
Average White Band,
Symarip,
Howard Jones,
The Busters,
Pierre Henry,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Slackers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Gap Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Man Eating Sloth,
Los Fastidios,
Ossler,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lungfish,
Quantec,
Arab on Radar,
T. Rex,
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.