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 Mozambique and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 synthesizer 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 Blancmange to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl 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 clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Cramps,
Graham Central Station,
Shoche,
Porter Ricks,
Slave,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Slick Rick,
Severed Heads,
The Raincoats,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Simply Red,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Neil Young,
Althea and Donna,
Byron Stingily,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Alphaville,
Young Marble Giants,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Standells,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeru the Damaja,
Letta Mbulu,
Roxy Music,
Alton Ellis,
Faust,
X-102,
Cecil Taylor,
Anthony Braxton,
Ultra Naté,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Beau Brummels,
Ice-T,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Arab on Radar,
The Slackers,
Jeff Mills,
Agitation Free,
Ornette Coleman,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Flipper,
Lou Christie,
Crispian St. Peters,
Godley & Creme,
Youth Brigade,
Country Teasers,
Black Pus,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
Saccharine Trust,
Andrew Hill,
Silicon Teens,
Brand Nubian,
Tropical Tobacco,
Matthew Halsall,
Excepter,
the Slits,
Das Ding,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.