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 Venezuela and from Cairo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cal Tjader to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Thee Headcoats,
Nico,
Camberwell Now,
Soulsonic Force,
Soul II Soul,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roy Ayers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rekid,
Fatback Band,
Crooked Eye,
Howard Jones,
John Lydon,
Barbara Tucker,
Index,
Dawn Penn,
The Pretty Things,
Tears for Fears,
Schoolly D,
Joe Finger,
The Modern Lovers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jeff Mills,
Bush Tetras,
Black Bananas,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
This Heat,
Hashim,
Aswad,
Scion,
Joey Negro,
Harmonia,
The Cramps,
Q65,
Sixth Finger,
Infiniti,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sugar Minott,
The Moody Blues,
MDC,
Deakin,
The Stooges,
Grey Daturas,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Vogues,
The Move,
The Trojans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Crime,
David Bowie,
Davy DMX,
the Slits,
Chrome,
the Human League,
The Fuzztones,
New Order,
Judy Mowatt,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.