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 Haiti and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bush Tetras to the rap 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
Hot Snakes,
The Dead C,
Dead Boys,
Hardrive,
Lower 48,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Buckinghams,
The Modern Lovers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
CMW,
The Victims,
Albert Ayler,
Crash Course in Science,
The Skatalites,
The Associates,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sonic Youth,
Stiv Bators,
the Slits,
Rites of Spring,
Tres Demented,
the Fania All-Stars,
Scratch Acid,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Smiths,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Minor Threat,
Marc Almond,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Lydon,
The Vogues,
Minnie Riperton,
Swans,
Derrick May,
Robert Wyatt,
Eve St. Jones,
the Bar-Kays,
Thee Headcoats,
Los Fastidios,
Cal Tjader,
Erasure,
Kurtis Blow,
The Sound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nas,
Blancmange,
Frankie Knuckles,
Roxette,
David Bowie,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Zapp,
Pierre Henry,
James White and The Blacks,
Surgeon,
Lyres,
Yusef Lateef,
Whodini,
The Move,
Moby Grape,
DJ Style,
Ossler,
Royal Trux,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.