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 Madagascar and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Suburban Knight to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
The Martian,
Sex Pistols,
Magazine,
Girls At Our Best!,
Masters at Work,
Matthew Halsall,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Monochrome Set,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Buckinghams,
Idris Muhammad,
Gong,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rapeman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cymande,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rotary Connection,
The Fugs,
Anakelly,
Loose Ends,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Residents,
Blancmange,
the Sonics,
Royal Trux,
Bauhaus,
The Beau Brummels,
Grauzone,
Black Flag,
Archie Shepp,
The Cowsills,
Grey Daturas,
Terry Callier,
Stetsasonic,
Nils Olav,
New Age Steppers,
Dennis Brown,
Malaria!,
LL Cool J,
Bobby Sherman,
The Evens,
Gang Starr,
Bluetip,
Shuggie Otis,
Section 25,
Vladislav Delay,
Public Enemy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Deepchord,
Moby Grape,
Babytalk,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Heaven 17,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Index,
Jeff Mills,
Massinfluence,
Jeff Lynne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Half Japanese,
Mo-Dettes,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.