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 Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 linndrum 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the crunk 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cybotron,
Dual Sessions,
Stetsasonic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Janne Schatter,
Soulsonic Force,
Terry Callier,
Fatback Band,
The Associates,
Idris Muhammad,
Minny Pops,
Ralphi Rosario,
Intrusion,
Arab on Radar,
Patti Smith,
Soft Cell,
T.S.O.L.,
Ken Boothe,
Blake Baxter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pere Ubu,
Hot Snakes,
Vladislav Delay,
Roxette,
Severed Heads,
The J.B.'s,
The Toasters,
Ituana,
Joy Division,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mo-Dettes,
The Walker Brothers,
Q and Not U,
the Swans,
The Fugs,
Technova,
Eurythmics,
Faraquet,
Marshall Jefferson,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Fat Boys,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Max Romeo,
Joe Smooth,
Lebanon Hanover,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Derrick Morgan,
In Retrospect,
Iggy Pop,
Skarface,
Aural Exciters,
the Soft Cell,
Swell Maps,
Bang On A Can,
Funky Four + One,
Ohio Players,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.