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 Uganda and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 David Bowie 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 The Index to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Massinfluence. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Donny Hathaway,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Sisters of Mercy,
R.M.O.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Public Enemy,
The Selecter,
Nick Fraelich,
Crispian St. Peters,
Iggy Pop,
Crime,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Flag,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Newcleus,
Tears for Fears,
Connie Case,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lightning Bolt,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Zeros,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sun City Girls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Motions,
DJ Style,
Erasure,
Robert Görl,
Jimmy McGriff,
Danielle Patucci,
Davy DMX,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Litter,
Dead Boys,
Depeche Mode,
Guru Guru,
kango's stein massive,
Vladislav Delay,
James White and The Blacks,
Piero Umiliani,
Goldenarms,
MC5,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Desert Stars,
Peter and Kerry,
The Cowsills,
Tres Demented,
The Gories,
Deakin,
Sun Ra,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Misunderstood,
Funky Four + One,
Roger Hodgson,
Lucky Dragons,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.