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 Togo and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Saccharine Trust to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Visage,
Wasted Youth,
The United States of America,
Banda Bassotti,
Cheater Slicks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pole,
The Fuzztones,
Warren Ellis,
Absolute Body Control,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Faraquet,
Brick,
Fatback Band,
Unwound,
The Index,
The Music Machine,
The Evens,
Babytalk,
Jawbox,
Kaleidoscope,
Joyce Sims,
The Searchers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Blancmange,
Dark Day,
Masters at Work,
Marine Girls,
Tom Boy,
Mad Mike,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brass Construction,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Schoolly D,
Barbara Tucker,
Symarip,
Unrelated Segments,
Eurythmics,
The Count Five,
Alice Coltrane,
Delon & Dalcan,
KRS-One,
Todd Rundgren,
Mantronix,
Crooked Eye,
UT,
The American Breed,
Roxette,
Derrick Morgan,
Lungfish,
Aswad,
Robert Hood,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Qualms,
The Angels of Light,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.