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 Ghana and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 MC5 to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Fad Gadget,
The Stooges,
Nik Kershaw,
48th St. Collective,
Soft Machine,
Connie Case,
Soft Cell,
Basic Channel,
Boz Scaggs,
Fatback Band,
Minnie Riperton,
ABC,
Qualms,
Toni Rubio,
Grauzone,
Slick Rick,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The New Christs,
Donny Hathaway,
Aloha Tigers,
Interpol,
Black Sheep,
Television,
Camberwell Now,
Pere Ubu,
Pantaleimon,
U.S. Maple,
The Beau Brummels,
Ohio Players,
Television Personalities,
The Durutti Column,
Grandmaster Flash,
Soul II Soul,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sun Ra,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
kango's stein massive,
Delon & Dalcan,
Reuben Wilson,
Chris Corsano,
Rekid,
Arab on Radar,
The Dave Clark Five,
Khruangbin,
Lalann,
Joyce Sims,
Lakeside,
Cymande,
The Standells,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Audionom,
The Slits,
Howard Jones,
Main Source,
The Gap Band,
Rapeman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roy Ayers,
Minny Pops,
Harry Pussy,
Wally Richardson,
Outsiders,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.