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 Andorra and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Drexciya to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most 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?
Bang On A Can,
The Techniques,
Jandek,
The Birthday Party,
Pussy Galore,
Alton Ellis,
Tubeway Army,
Crispy Ambulance,
AZ,
The Evens,
John Lydon,
The Searchers,
The Dirtbombs,
Altered Images,
Fugazi,
Vladislav Delay,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Soft Machine,
The Barracudas,
Graham Central Station,
Gang Green,
The Golliwogs,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Busters,
Blake Baxter,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Tremeloes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Severed Heads,
Bootsy Collins,
Eric Dolphy,
Skarface,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Cowsills,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jeff Lynne,
Ohio Players,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pantaleimon,
Section 25,
Subhumans,
Arthur Verocai,
Harmonia,
Charles Mingus,
The American Breed,
Liliput,
Lakeside,
Piero Umiliani,
Negative Approach,
Max Romeo,
The Knickerbockers,
Byron Stingily,
Wire,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Divine Comedy,
Skaos,
Sister Nancy,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.