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 East Timor and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Altered Images to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Parry Music,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alphaville,
Depeche Mode,
Stetsasonic,
The Slackers,
Wasted Youth,
U.S. Maple,
T. Rex,
The Flesh Eaters,
Max Romeo,
Joe Finger,
Alton Ellis,
Oneida,
Magma,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Divine Comedy,
Lindisfarne,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bronski Beat,
Simply Red,
Essential Logic,
The Angels of Light,
Boredoms,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Ken Boothe,
John Foxx,
Matthew Halsall,
Fela Kuti,
Faraquet,
Gerry Rafferty,
Josef K,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pussy Galore,
The Last Poets,
Erasure,
Basic Channel,
Ten City,
Sarah Menescal,
The Neon Judgement,
Procol Harum,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Velvet Underground,
Audionom,
Chrome,
The Toasters,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Liliput,
The Smiths,
The J.B.'s,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Davy DMX,
Gabor Szabo,
Patti Smith,
This Heat,
the Association,
Soft Machine,
Kool Moe Dee,
Adolescents,
John Coltrane,
Hot Snakes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.