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 Rwanda 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mexico City.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fania All-Stars to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Au Pairs,
Faust,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
MDC,
The Dead C,
Scientists,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lou Reed,
Duran Duran,
Audionom,
Harry Pussy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Byrd,
Reagan Youth,
Neu!,
Tropical Tobacco,
Talk Talk,
Nirvana,
Quadrant,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Monks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Patti Smith,
a-ha,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Desert Stars,
Swell Maps,
Trumans Water,
Albert Ayler,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cecil Taylor,
Harmonia,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
K-Klass,
Animal Collective,
Jesper Dahlback,
China Crisis,
Dave Gahan,
Visage,
Barbara Tucker,
The New Christs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Joe Finger,
Kerri Chandler,
The Flesh Eaters,
Von Mondo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Divine Comedy,
Oneida,
Pere Ubu,
Davy DMX,
DNA,
Joey Negro,
8 Eyed Spy,
Guru Guru,
the Fania All-Stars,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.