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 South Sudan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Hong Kong.
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 snare 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 Ultravox to the techno 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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Dead Boys,
Junior Murvin,
The Five Americans,
Soulsonic Force,
Scott Walker,
The Move,
Lightning Bolt,
Eric Dolphy,
The Toasters,
Gang of Four,
Icehouse,
The Blackbyrds,
Newcleus,
the Association,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Outsiders,
The Monochrome Set,
Morten Harket,
The Velvet Underground,
Unwound,
Joey Negro,
The Gap Band,
Pagans,
Slave,
Warren Ellis,
The Angels of Light,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dark Day,
The Misunderstood,
Lalann,
Black Moon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
June Days,
Maurizio,
Section 25,
Popol Vuh,
The Mojo Men,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Chrome,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nick Fraelich,
Roy Ayers,
Sound Behaviour,
Skarface,
JFA,
The Music Machine,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Au Pairs,
Leonard Cohen,
Eden Ahbez,
Throbbing Gristle,
The New Christs,
Amazonics,
The Dirtbombs,
Kurtis Blow,
Whodini,
Scan 7,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.