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 Morocco and from Beijing.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Eli Mardock to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
The Fall,
Von Mondo,
Lucky Dragons,
Soul II Soul,
Erasure,
Kool Moe Dee,
Agent Orange,
Brothers Johnson,
K-Klass,
Quando Quango,
Ronnie Foster,
Thompson Twins,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sonny Sharrock,
Moss Icon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Henry Cow,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
These Immortal Souls,
Toni Rubio,
Ponytail,
Reagan Youth,
Lakeside,
Aural Exciters,
Gang of Four,
New Age Steppers,
Ultravox,
Man Parrish,
Bluetip,
Delta 5,
Chris & Cosey,
Bootsy Collins,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Sonics,
Talk Talk,
Marshall Jefferson,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Slits,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Guru Guru,
Make Up,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
June of 44,
Visage,
Tim Buckley,
Tubeway Army,
Suburban Knight,
Pylon,
Cameo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Donald Byrd,
E-Dancer,
James White and The Blacks,
Ice-T,
The Seeds,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.