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 Portugal and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Archie Shepp to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Roy Ayers,
the Swans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lucky Dragons,
Crispy Ambulance,
Susan Cadogan,
Colin Newman,
Cymande,
Electric Prunes,
The Selecter,
Anthony Braxton,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ronnie Foster,
Monolake,
Tears for Fears,
The Saints,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jandek,
The Busters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Intrusion,
Spandau Ballet,
John Cale,
Harry Pussy,
The Techniques,
The Tremeloes,
MDC,
Rotary Connection,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Bar-Kays,
The Pretty Things,
Stiv Bators,
Maleditus Sound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Cramps,
Leonard Cohen,
Gang Starr,
Zapp,
Joey Negro,
Masters at Work,
Black Pus,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Smiths,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Boz Scaggs,
Joyce Sims,
Mr. Review,
Minnie Riperton,
Organ,
Soft Machine,
Toni Rubio,
New Order,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Faust,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
LL Cool J,
Eddi Front,
ABBA,
The Blackbyrds,
Groovy Waters,
Reuben Wilson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.