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 Namibia and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the disco 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Eurythmics,
Shoche,
B.T. Express,
Jimmy McGriff,
Susan Cadogan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jacques Brel,
Loose Ends,
Crooked Eye,
The Names,
Sarah Menescal,
The Cure,
The Searchers,
Theoretical Girls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Swell Maps,
James White and The Blacks,
Basic Channel,
Harry Pussy,
Black Pus,
Crash Course in Science,
Roxette,
The Index,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
48th St. Collective,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Gories,
Lakeside,
Dawn Penn,
Traffic Nightmare,
Oneida,
Chrome,
D'Angelo,
Visage,
Dark Day,
Scientists,
U.S. Maple,
Amon Düül II,
The United States of America,
June of 44,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Flag,
The Slits,
Josef K,
F. McDonald,
Roy Ayers,
Hoover,
Chris & Cosey,
Amazonics,
The New Christs,
New Order,
Warren Ellis,
Japan,
Simply Red,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.