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 Costa Rica and from Calgary.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 Make Up to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Blossom Toes,
Nirvana,
Accadde A,
Liliput,
Half Japanese,
The Moody Blues,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Black Sheep,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Gap Band,
Tim Buckley,
48th St. Collective,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Modern Lovers,
The Red Krayola,
Animal Collective,
The Birthday Party,
Grauzone,
Jandek,
T.S.O.L.,
Silicon Teens,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Byrd,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Names,
Rufus Thomas,
Stockholm Monsters,
Porter Ricks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Henry Cow,
Ronnie Foster,
the Swans,
Delta 5,
Funkadelic,
Bad Manners,
Kas Product,
Boredoms,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
La Düsseldorf,
Qualms,
Angry Samoans,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Young Rascals,
X-102,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Visage,
Freddie Wadling,
Fatback Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Five Americans,
Oneida,
Eric Copeland,
Flipper,
Leonard Cohen,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Deakin,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Kinks,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.