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 Burkina and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Stooges to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Iggy Pop,
The Pretty Things,
Basic Channel,
Alton Ellis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kool Moe Dee,
The New Christs,
Terry Callier,
The Monochrome Set,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cheater Slicks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pagans,
Delon & Dalcan,
Silicon Teens,
The Shadows of Knight,
Brand Nubian,
The Selecter,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mary Jane Girls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ultimate Spinach,
Faraquet,
Idris Muhammad,
FM Einheit,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Lightning Bolt,
Gabor Szabo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cecil Taylor,
Stetsasonic,
Delta 5,
Amazonics,
Rakim,
The Smiths,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fuzztones,
Avey Tare,
London Community Gospel Choir,
ABBA,
The Gladiators,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Max Romeo,
The Leaves,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Blues Magoos,
Blancmange,
the Sonics,
Patti Smith,
The Music Machine,
Isaac Hayes,
Brothers Johnson,
Dead Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ice-T,
Hardrive,
The Alarm Clocks,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.