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 El Salvador and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soulsonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Dirtbombs,
Wasted Youth,
The Happenings,
JFA,
the Germs,
K-Klass,
Icehouse,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Deepchord,
Blossom Toes,
Marc Almond,
The Leaves,
Saccharine Trust,
Aswad,
The Invisible,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dave Gahan,
The Barracudas,
Brothers Johnson,
The Red Krayola,
The Blackbyrds,
Gong,
The Seeds,
Quadrant,
Black Pus,
Wolf Eyes,
Average White Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Schoolly D,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
ABBA,
Erasure,
Darondo,
Arcadia,
Suburban Knight,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Essential Logic,
Gichy Dan,
Funkadelic,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Janne Schatter,
Moby Grape,
Scan 7,
Joy Division,
Iggy Pop,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Spoonie Gee,
The Sisters of Mercy,
H. Thieme,
Boz Scaggs,
These Immortal Souls,
Scientists,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gang Starr,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.