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 El Salvador and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin 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 Golliwogs to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
EPMD,
Gichy Dan,
Peter and Kerry,
D'Angelo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Radio Birdman,
Nik Kershaw,
Harpers Bizarre,
Skaos,
Mr. Review,
Niagra,
The Cramps,
The Invisible,
Warren Ellis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Black Sheep,
The Doors,
Ponytail,
The Fire Engines,
The Beau Brummels,
Qualms,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Joe Smooth,
Peter & Gordon,
The Buckinghams,
Yazoo,
Funky Four + One,
Fear,
Matthew Halsall,
The Red Krayola,
Japan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Buzzcocks,
Fela Kuti,
The New Christs,
Patti Smith,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sight & Sound,
Symarip,
The Moody Blues,
Robert Hood,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Index,
The Saints,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Modern Lovers,
Spoonie Gee,
Porter Ricks,
Bad Manners,
Severed Heads,
The Happenings,
Susan Cadogan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Charles Mingus,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Arab on Radar,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.