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 Belarus and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the funk 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Spandau Ballet,
Soft Cell,
Fatback Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Glenn Branca,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lindisfarne,
Babytalk,
Ten City,
Pylon,
Sound Behaviour,
Parry Music,
Henry Cow,
The Star Department,
The Music Machine,
Nas,
Deakin,
Marc Almond,
Gregory Isaacs,
MDC,
Wire,
Bobby Womack,
Gerry Rafferty,
Agitation Free,
Godley & Creme,
Symarip,
Hardrive,
Robert Görl,
Cymande,
The Stooges,
The Walker Brothers,
The Invisible,
Cameo,
Maleditus Sound,
Kurtis Blow,
Eve St. Jones,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rufus Thomas,
Pulsallama,
The Toasters,
Los Fastidios,
Faust,
Harmonia,
Nick Fraelich,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gabor Szabo,
Q and Not U,
Jandek,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Desert Stars,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gastr Del Sol,
One Last Wish,
Gang of Four,
Thompson Twins,
X-102,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fugs,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.