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 Zambia and from Lyon.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Brothers Johnson to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
The Divine Comedy,
The Residents,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Walker Brothers,
UT,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scrapy,
Spoonie Gee,
Cluster,
Underground Resistance,
Lakeside,
Kenny Larkin,
Roxette,
Flash Fearless,
Desert Stars,
Graham Central Station,
John Coltrane,
Soul Sonic Force,
Parry Music,
Chris & Cosey,
Howard Jones,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Monks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
X-102,
Harry Pussy,
The Saints,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Sonics,
Kayak,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Stooges,
Jeff Mills,
Nils Olav,
Talk Talk,
Blancmange,
Arthur Verocai,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gabor Szabo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Amazonics,
Al Stewart,
Joe Finger,
The Music Machine,
The Fugs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bizarre Inc.,
X-Ray Spex,
Lou Reed,
Youth Brigade,
X-101,
the Germs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
FM Einheit,
Rekid,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.