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 Kenya and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 sitar 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 Silicon Teens to the techno 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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
The Leaves,
Mantronix,
Audionom,
Spandau Ballet,
Joey Negro,
Ohio Players,
Royal Trux,
Lucky Dragons,
Mandrill,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jacob Miller,
The Happenings,
Wolf Eyes,
Blossom Toes,
The Gap Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
DNA,
Rapeman,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mad Mike,
Popol Vuh,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Stiv Bators,
Ice-T,
Skaos,
Silicon Teens,
Colin Newman,
Be Bop Deluxe,
David Bowie,
Glambeats Corp.,
Johnny Clarke,
Whodini,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Japan,
The Kinks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eric B and Rakim,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Groovy Waters,
Hashim,
Minutemen,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Vladislav Delay,
Loose Ends,
Junior Murvin,
Camberwell Now,
Drexciya,
The Five Americans,
Easy Going,
Circle Jerks,
Symarip,
The Toasters,
The Angels of Light,
Aloha Tigers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Pus,
The Invisible,
Stetsasonic,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.