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 Grenada and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the grunge 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deadbeat,
Stiv Bators,
Monks,
Spoonie Gee,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eurythmics,
The Slackers,
Electric Prunes,
the Bar-Kays,
Carl Craig,
FM Einheit,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Erasure,
Dave Gahan,
Ken Boothe,
Kenny Larkin,
New Order,
Tommy Roe,
Banda Bassotti,
Marmalade,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alphaville,
Boogie Down Productions,
Qualms,
David Axelrod,
Trumans Water,
Isaac Hayes,
Audionom,
Leonard Cohen,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bauhaus,
Sex Pistols,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Slits,
The Motions,
Minutemen,
Warsaw,
Niagra,
Youth Brigade,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pere Ubu,
Yazoo,
Groovy Waters,
Jawbox,
E-Dancer,
Make Up,
Yusef Lateef,
Black Bananas,
The Kinks,
Barry Ungar,
The Gun Club,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
U.S. Maple,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marc Almond,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.