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 Zambia and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Kinks to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Mark Hollis,
Supertramp,
Marvin Gaye,
ABC,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
David McCallum,
The Seeds,
Robert Hood,
John Coltrane,
Deepchord,
Duran Duran,
Chris Corsano,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Slits,
The Standells,
Bill Near,
Pere Ubu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Groovy Waters,
Iggy Pop,
Shuggie Otis,
Magma,
The Monochrome Set,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dorothy Ashby,
Traffic Nightmare,
Alice Coltrane,
The Evens,
Robert Wyatt,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hot Snakes,
The Kinks,
UT,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Procol Harum,
Skarface,
E-Dancer,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Barclay James Harvest,
Zapp,
Agent Orange,
Soft Machine,
Faraquet,
Skriet,
The Litter,
The Selecter,
Section 25,
Youth Brigade,
Todd Terry,
Lebanon Hanover,
Maurizio,
Dave Gahan,
Masters at Work,
Yaz,
Excepter,
Jeff Mills,
Dark Day,
The Moody Blues,
Kurtis Blow,
Wings,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.