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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Aaron Thompson to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Quadrant,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Radio Birdman,
Von Mondo,
Nirvana,
Bauhaus,
The Residents,
The Electric Prunes,
Marc Almond,
Talk Talk,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Cure,
Camouflage,
Anthony Braxton,
The Associates,
Audionom,
Crime,
The Star Department,
L. Decosne,
Prince Buster,
Robert Görl,
Roxy Music,
A Certain Ratio,
Popol Vuh,
Skarface,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Boogie Down Productions,
Todd Terry,
The Names,
Skriet,
Patti Smith,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Durutti Column,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Amon Düül,
The Real Kids,
Section 25,
Man Eating Sloth,
Livin' Joy,
Graham Central Station,
Wally Richardson,
Minny Pops,
The New Christs,
MDC,
Saccharine Trust,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Music Machine,
Roger Hodgson,
Ituana,
Maurizio,
Shoche,
Underground Resistance,
Kurtis Blow,
Brass Construction,
Hoover,
the Swans,
In Retrospect,
Lalann,
These Immortal Souls,
Symarip,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.