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 Romania and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin 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 Althea and Donna to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
John Holt,
Public Enemy,
48th St. Collective,
Jerry's Kids,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nas,
the Bar-Kays,
The Names,
Pet Shop Boys,
Newcleus,
Fear,
the Fania All-Stars,
June Days,
Jacob Miller,
Skriet,
The Raincoats,
Outsiders,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soulsonic Force,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sound Behaviour,
Johnny Clarke,
The Monks,
This Heat,
Kerri Chandler,
Robert Wyatt,
Fluxion,
The Flesh Eaters,
Los Fastidios,
Cheater Slicks,
The Neon Judgement,
Max Romeo,
CMW,
Grauzone,
Junior Murvin,
Arthur Verocai,
Bad Manners,
The Misunderstood,
Surgeon,
Audionom,
Idris Muhammad,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Throbbing Gristle,
X-102,
The Moody Blues,
Franke,
LL Cool J,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
China Crisis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Saints,
Duran Duran,
Andrew Hill,
Minny Pops,
Joey Negro,
Qualms,
the Association,
Lightning Bolt,
Dorothy Ashby,
Agent Orange,
Glenn Branca,
Section 25,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.