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 Luxembourg and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer 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 The Stooges to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Dead Boys,
Brothers Johnson,
Juan Atkins,
Brick,
Symarip,
Eli Mardock,
Soulsonic Force,
Prince Buster,
Porter Ricks,
Aswad,
Max Romeo,
The Martian,
Alison Limerick,
Hardrive,
Johnny Clarke,
Michelle Simonal,
The Electric Prunes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wings,
Flipper,
The Monks,
The Motions,
DJ Style,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soft Cell,
Wally Richardson,
Icehouse,
The Raincoats,
The Residents,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Mojo Men,
Terry Callier,
Bluetip,
Rites of Spring,
Excepter,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare,
Urselle,
Deepchord,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Patti Smith,
Tommy Roe,
The Seeds,
Ultimate Spinach,
JFA,
The Busters,
David Bowie,
Albert Ayler,
ABBA,
Arcadia,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Neon Judgement,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Joe Smooth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Warsaw,
Roy Ayers,
The Techniques,
Idris Muhammad,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.