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 Oman and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Eve St. Jones to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Severed Heads,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Agent Orange,
Slick Rick,
The Slits,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Todd Terry,
Joyce Sims,
Dennis Brown,
Maurizio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Glambeats Corp.,
Albert Ayler,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Names,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Shoche,
Pantytec,
Negative Approach,
The Alarm Clocks,
David McCallum,
Radio Birdman,
Zapp,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Girls At Our Best!,
Porter Ricks,
Sight & Sound,
Scion,
Bill Near,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Juan Atkins,
Echospace,
Graham Central Station,
Ice-T,
Faraquet,
The Last Poets,
The Smiths,
Bush Tetras,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gong,
The Pop Group,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nas,
June of 44,
Animal Collective,
OOIOO,
Funkadelic,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Aaron Thompson,
Lightning Bolt,
the Association,
Crispian St. Peters,
Technova,
Jeru the Damaja,
Khruangbin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Althea and Donna,
Con Funk Shun,
Dawn Penn,
The Blackbyrds,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.