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 Ukraine and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Camberwell Now to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fall. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Blancmange,
Absolute Body Control,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tom Boy,
Man Parrish,
The Durutti Column,
Mad Mike,
Rapeman,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Cure,
Visage,
Gichy Dan,
Barry Ungar,
In Retrospect,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mantronix,
Bill Wells,
The Pretty Things,
Whodini,
X-102,
Dark Day,
Juan Atkins,
Ludus,
Maleditus Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sonic Youth,
Quantec,
Excepter,
The Stooges,
The Walker Brothers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Porter Ricks,
Donald Byrd,
Joy Division,
Carl Craig,
Sight & Sound,
Khruangbin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mandrill,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Barracudas,
Saccharine Trust,
Charles Mingus,
Section 25,
Smog,
Nas,
Guru Guru,
Chrome,
The Angels of Light,
Neil Young,
The Skatalites,
Agitation Free,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gabor Szabo,
Bronski Beat,
Alton Ellis,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.