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 Tanzania and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Audionom to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harmonia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
ABC,
Sun Ra,
Franke,
Arthur Verocai,
the Sonics,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Star Department,
Black Bananas,
the Soft Cell,
UT,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Zero Boys,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gerry Rafferty,
Fat Boys,
Boz Scaggs,
Vladislav Delay,
Donny Hathaway,
Sixth Finger,
The Associates,
Traffic Nightmare,
X-102,
The Smiths,
Susan Cadogan,
Rites of Spring,
Lower 48,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Buzzcocks,
Talk Talk,
Robert Hood,
Dave Gahan,
Kayak,
Pere Ubu,
The Cowsills,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The J.B.'s,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Anthony Braxton,
Television Personalities,
AZ,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rosa Yemen,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Pop Group,
Connie Case,
Kas Product,
Los Fastidios,
Letta Mbulu,
Q and Not U,
John Holt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eve St. Jones,
John Cale,
The Gun Club,
The Last Poets,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.