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 Kenya and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Metal Thangz to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Robert Wyatt,
Girls At Our Best!,
Von Mondo,
Outsiders,
John Lydon,
Main Source,
Desert Stars,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Vogues,
Sun Ra,
Depeche Mode,
The Human League,
Delta 5,
Scion,
Index,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
June Days,
Black Pus,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Germs,
The Last Poets,
Andrew Hill,
Derrick Morgan,
Neil Young,
Thompson Twins,
Bluetip,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Isaac Hayes,
The Moleskins,
The Associates,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bobby Sherman,
Thee Headcoats,
The Standells,
AZ,
Peter and Kerry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Durutti Column,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jacques Brel,
Danielle Patucci,
Clear Light,
the Sonics,
Con Funk Shun,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ludus,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Man Eating Sloth,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Severed Heads,
Qualms,
Flipper,
Lungfish,
Judy Mowatt,
Tubeway Army,
The Velvet Underground,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Vainqueur,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.