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 Kosovo and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Soulsonic Force to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Stetsasonic,
The Dave Clark Five,
Unrelated Segments,
Gang of Four,
Bluetip,
Crispy Ambulance,
ABBA,
Alton Ellis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Accadde A,
Nik Kershaw,
Das Ding,
Stereo Dub,
The Red Krayola,
Amon Düül II,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Simply Red,
Dorothy Ashby,
Model 500,
Bauhaus,
Mo-Dettes,
Wire,
The Litter,
Interpol,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sixth Finger,
Monolake,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jerry's Kids,
The Slackers,
Godley & Creme,
Flash Fearless,
Inner City,
DJ Sneak,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Depeche Mode,
Scan 7,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Iggy Pop,
The Doors,
Shoche,
Au Pairs,
Cymande,
Negative Approach,
Piero Umiliani,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Subhumans,
Bush Tetras,
Sonic Youth,
The Mummies,
Banda Bassotti,
Mark Hollis,
Soulsonic Force,
These Immortal Souls,
The Young Rascals,
Deepchord,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.