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 Mauritania and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 güiro 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 Joe Smooth to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
48th St. Collective,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
A Certain Ratio,
The Residents,
The Golliwogs,
Magazine,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Velvet Underground,
Theoretical Girls,
Severed Heads,
China Crisis,
The Divine Comedy,
Quadrant,
Young Marble Giants,
The Remains,
Kas Product,
Todd Rundgren,
Fad Gadget,
Throbbing Gristle,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bronski Beat,
Godley & Creme,
Rekid,
New York Dolls,
the Human League,
The Dead C,
Babytalk,
Minny Pops,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Public Image Ltd.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Index,
Cameo,
June of 44,
The Grass Roots,
Nirvana,
Curtis Mayfield,
Infiniti,
Black Sheep,
Cecil Taylor,
Roy Ayers,
Matthew Bourne,
Robert Görl,
ABBA,
Black Pus,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Whodini,
Kurtis Blow,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Misunderstood,
The Electric Prunes,
Glenn Branca,
Nik Kershaw,
Morten Harket,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Happenings,
Michelle Simonal,
Harry Pussy,
Sex Pistols,
Ronan,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.