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 Grenada and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 mellotron 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 The Velvet Underground 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Quando Quango,
Lakeside,
The Star Department,
The Fire Engines,
Oblivians,
Babytalk,
The Motions,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Slackers,
June Days,
a-ha,
Absolute Body Control,
Youth Brigade,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eli Mardock,
Masters at Work,
Terry Callier,
Graham Central Station,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sarah Menescal,
The Kinks,
Bad Manners,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Donald Byrd,
John Holt,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cymande,
Ultra Naté,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Knickerbockers,
Organ,
48th St. Collective,
The Remains,
Circle Jerks,
Danielle Patucci,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
X-Ray Spex,
Section 25,
Dawn Penn,
Lee Hazlewood,
Max Romeo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Aural Exciters,
David Bowie,
Ossler,
Girls At Our Best!,
Roxette,
Sun City Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
T. Rex,
Crooked Eye,
The Cowsills,
Bauhaus,
Y Pants,
Jeff Lynne,
Cheater Slicks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Soul Sonic Force,
Unwound,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell, N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell, N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell, N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell.
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.