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 Nigeria and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the dance 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Iggy Pop,
Stetsasonic,
The Electric Prunes,
New Order,
Glambeats Corp.,
Graham Central Station,
ABC,
Inner City,
Dark Day,
Television,
Arthur Verocai,
Minny Pops,
Unrelated Segments,
Rod Modell,
The Black Dice,
Tears for Fears,
Symarip,
Nirvana,
Nik Kershaw,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rites of Spring,
The Happenings,
JFA,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joyce Sims,
The Moleskins,
T. Rex,
Cecil Taylor,
The Residents,
Ponytail,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lucky Dragons,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mission of Burma,
Roxette,
Tres Demented,
Shoche,
Deadbeat,
Pole,
Unwound,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Funkadelic,
Frankie Knuckles,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sixth Finger,
Wire,
Wolf Eyes,
Lindisfarne,
Gang Starr,
Derrick May,
The Searchers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
a-ha,
Marvin Gaye,
Girls At Our Best!,
These Immortal Souls,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Pop Group,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.