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 Zambia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mexico City.
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 oboe 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 Robert Görl to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
The Monochrome Set,
Donald Byrd,
David McCallum,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Laurel Aitken,
Icehouse,
Severed Heads,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fortunes,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crime,
Porter Ricks,
Panda Bear,
Joyce Sims,
The Litter,
Matthew Halsall,
The Leaves,
The Pop Group,
X-102,
Marcia Griffiths,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Subhumans,
Tim Buckley,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fire Engines,
Kool Moe Dee,
Danielle Patucci,
R.M.O.,
Drive Like Jehu,
Nirvana,
Freddie Wadling,
the Human League,
Stetsasonic,
Crooked Eye,
Terrestrial Tones,
Unwound,
MDC,
Can,
Bronski Beat,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Chris & Cosey,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
June Days,
Echospace,
Newcleus,
The Gladiators,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Minutemen,
Colin Newman,
Section 25,
Public Enemy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Malaria!,
Radiohead,
Moss Icon,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.