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 Egypt and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lagos.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Symarip to the crunk 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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rapeman,
The Martian,
Arcadia,
Lindisfarne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roxy Music,
the Sonics,
Half Japanese,
Reuben Wilson,
F. McDonald,
Dead Boys,
Jacob Miller,
Lungfish,
The Durutti Column,
Trumans Water,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Todd Rundgren,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Blackbyrds,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Trojans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Goldenarms,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Johnny Clarke,
Main Source,
The Five Americans,
Junior Murvin,
Duran Duran,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lou Reed,
Bauhaus,
The Sonics,
Surgeon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scion,
Blancmange,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pere Ubu,
Swell Maps,
MDC,
Boredoms,
Radio Birdman,
The Gories,
Brick,
Joyce Sims,
Au Pairs,
Grauzone,
E-Dancer,
Subhumans,
Janne Schatter,
The Golliwogs,
Agent Orange,
Ken Boothe,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.