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 Nauru and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Young Marble Giants,
Robert Görl,
Scientists,
Amazonics,
Barry Ungar,
Bob Dylan,
Lightning Bolt,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Spandau Ballet,
The Five Americans,
Rufus Thomas,
Barbara Tucker,
The Real Kids,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Theoretical Girls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Carl Craig,
Nation of Ulysses,
Connie Case,
E-Dancer,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cowsills,
Index,
Throbbing Gristle,
Soft Machine,
Bush Tetras,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Residents,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jacob Miller,
The J.B.'s,
Agent Orange,
The Angels of Light,
Oblivians,
One Last Wish,
Severed Heads,
Kaleidoscope,
Marmalade,
The Buckinghams,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Harry Pussy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Amon Düül,
The Mojo Men,
Con Funk Shun,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Electric Prunes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mad Mike,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sexual Harrassment,
Neu!,
Brothers Johnson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Quadrant,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Slave,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.