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 Korea North and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 Kayak to the disco 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Steve Hackett,
Cheater Slicks,
The Index,
Sparks,
Rites of Spring,
Warsaw,
Can,
Danielle Patucci,
David Axelrod,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pet Shop Boys,
Big Daddy Kane,
Radiopuhelimet,
The New Christs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Arthur Verocai,
Subhumans,
Arab on Radar,
Dawn Penn,
Roxette,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Harmonia,
Crispian St. Peters,
Throbbing Gristle,
F. McDonald,
Funkadelic,
Marine Girls,
The Gun Club,
Guru Guru,
Derrick May,
Bush Tetras,
The Star Department,
Babytalk,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Popol Vuh,
Hashim,
Camouflage,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Cowsills,
Bill Near,
Pere Ubu,
The Motions,
Gabor Szabo,
Minnie Riperton,
Wally Richardson,
Suburban Knight,
Eric B and Rakim,
Flash Fearless,
Hot Snakes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
48th St. Collective,
Marmalade,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Count Five,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Skatalites,
Model 500,
Terrestrial Tones,
Main Source,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jeru the Damaja,
Darondo,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.