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 Chad and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Funkadelic to the funk 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
The Moleskins,
Black Pus,
Alice Coltrane,
Godley & Creme,
Amon Düül II,
Erasure,
The Modern Lovers,
Byron Stingily,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
8 Eyed Spy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Alphaville,
Brick,
The Cowsills,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Shoche,
Delta 5,
Suburban Knight,
One Last Wish,
Yellowson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hoover,
Unrelated Segments,
Bob Dylan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Oblivians,
Sonic Youth,
The Misunderstood,
F. McDonald,
The Techniques,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Index,
Skriet,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Soul Sonic Force,
Grandmaster Flash,
Robert Görl,
Soft Machine,
Unwound,
Q65,
Guru Guru,
Sex Pistols,
Anakelly,
Groovy Waters,
OOIOO,
Crispy Ambulance,
Skarface,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
D'Angelo,
Spandau Ballet,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang of Four,
Dennis Brown,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nik Kershaw,
Johnny Clarke,
Procol Harum,
Jandek,
The Fuzztones,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.