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 Angola 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the marimba 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Flipper,
Cybotron,
Erasure,
Ossler,
MC5,
Whodini,
DJ Sneak,
The Buckinghams,
The Dirtbombs,
David McCallum,
Barry Ungar,
Angry Samoans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ituana,
Bluetip,
Audionom,
John Lydon,
Popol Vuh,
Isaac Hayes,
UT,
Camberwell Now,
Brothers Johnson,
The Modern Lovers,
Reuben Wilson,
the Human League,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Television Personalities,
Echospace,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Underground Resistance,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Young Rascals,
Magma,
The Fuzztones,
Lucky Dragons,
The Star Department,
Marvin Gaye,
Liliput,
Spandau Ballet,
Suicide,
Kurtis Blow,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Goldenarms,
Arcadia,
Rod Modell,
Mad Mike,
Don Cherry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Moon,
Ultra Naté,
Depeche Mode,
Porter Ricks,
H. Thieme,
Unwound,
The Cramps,
Big Daddy Kane,
June of 44,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.