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 Finland and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 The Pretty Things to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joey Negro,
Ponytail,
Sun Ra,
cv313,
The Cure,
Eve St. Jones,
Royal Trux,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Saccharine Trust,
Stetsasonic,
Television Personalities,
Davy DMX,
Severed Heads,
Letta Mbulu,
Babytalk,
Althea and Donna,
Gang Starr,
Agitation Free,
Kas Product,
Basic Channel,
Index,
Model 500,
Albert Ayler,
The Real Kids,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Sound,
Eric Copeland,
The Leaves,
Ronnie Foster,
Dead Boys,
Quadrant,
Ten City,
ABC,
Minutemen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Dirtbombs,
Shoche,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Offenders,
Bad Manners,
Scott Walker,
New York Dolls,
Blossom Toes,
the Sonics,
Funkadelic,
Roxette,
Newcleus,
Sex Pistols,
The Fall,
The Victims,
Reagan Youth,
The Dave Clark Five,
EPMD,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Spoonie Gee,
John Cale,
Aswad,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.