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 Bhutan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 mellotron 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 The Dirtbombs to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Swans,
Severed Heads,
Dave Gahan,
L. Decosne,
Radio Birdman,
Nico,
Joe Finger,
Roy Ayers,
Technova,
La Düsseldorf,
China Crisis,
Panda Bear,
Marshall Jefferson,
This Heat,
Oblivians,
Ronan,
The Leaves,
Vladislav Delay,
Audionom,
Jacques Brel,
Fat Boys,
Ultravox,
David Axelrod,
Jerry's Kids,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Victims,
Black Flag,
Pantaleimon,
Blake Baxter,
The Blues Magoos,
The Associates,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Accadde A,
Con Funk Shun,
Das Ding,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Robert Wyatt,
A Certain Ratio,
Blancmange,
Don Cherry,
Steve Hackett,
Funkadelic,
The Offenders,
Deakin,
Little Man,
Mary Jane Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Schoolly D,
Guru Guru,
Matthew Bourne,
8 Eyed Spy,
Index,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.