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 Bulgaria and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Idris Muhammad to the disco 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Byron Stingily,
Babytalk,
John Holt,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Martian,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Stetsasonic,
Bootsy Collins,
Newcleus,
Boz Scaggs,
Agent Orange,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Unwound,
Bobby Sherman,
Blake Baxter,
Lindisfarne,
Wally Richardson,
The Birthday Party,
Amon Düül II,
The Modern Lovers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nas,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Smiths,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Fania All-Stars,
Public Enemy,
Jandek,
Jeff Lynne,
China Crisis,
Shuggie Otis,
cv313,
Boogie Down Productions,
Spoonie Gee,
The Sonics,
Fluxion,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sugar Minott,
Excepter,
Zapp,
Quadrant,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lakeside,
Sight & Sound,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Underground Resistance,
Archie Shepp,
Darondo,
Absolute Body Control,
Ronan,
Fear,
Sixth Finger,
Isaac Hayes,
Clear Light,
X-Ray Spex,
New Order,
Tres Demented,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.