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 Senegal and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Rapeman to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a guitar and a rhodes 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 synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Blossom Toes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marmalade,
The Beau Brummels,
Q and Not U,
the Slits,
the Association,
Skarface,
T. Rex,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lalann,
June of 44,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Anakelly,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Parry Music,
Aural Exciters,
Tres Demented,
Bobby Sherman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Moleskins,
The Saints,
John Lydon,
the Human League,
Babytalk,
The Gap Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Underground Resistance,
Qualms,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
DJ Style,
Yazoo,
Dual Sessions,
CMW,
Camouflage,
Dead Boys,
Blake Baxter,
Stiv Bators,
Kurtis Blow,
Fat Boys,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fugazi,
Glenn Branca,
Connie Case,
The Sound,
The Invisible,
Bobby Byrd,
Tropical Tobacco,
Angry Samoans,
The Mojo Men,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
David Axelrod,
Cluster,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mary Jane Girls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Groovy Waters,
Gichy Dan,
Slave,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.