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 Mozambique and from Hong Kong.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Terry Callier to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pulsallama,
Kaleidoscope,
Index,
Fatback Band,
Patti Smith,
Arcadia,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
R.M.O.,
Rites of Spring,
Susan Cadogan,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Carl Craig,
Japan,
Arab on Radar,
Gichy Dan,
Soul II Soul,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bobby Womack,
June of 44,
Joensuu 1685,
Scratch Acid,
Moss Icon,
Joe Smooth,
Alphaville,
Main Source,
Rod Modell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Searchers,
The Victims,
Excepter,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bill Near,
DNA,
Whodini,
The Angels of Light,
Andrew Hill,
Glenn Branca,
Radio Birdman,
Sex Pistols,
Simply Red,
Electric Prunes,
Rapeman,
X-102,
Ohio Players,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Maleditus Sound,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
FM Einheit,
Delta 5,
Ten City,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Quadrant,
The Gladiators,
Ultra Naté,
The Human League,
Soft Machine,
The Sound,
Bizarre Inc.,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.