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 Malaysia and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Nik Kershaw to the jazz 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Cameo,
Quadrant,
the Swans,
Byron Stingily,
Gichy Dan,
Pagans,
Radiopuhelimet,
Todd Terry,
The Human League,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Techniques,
Rosa Yemen,
Graham Central Station,
Dennis Brown,
Freddie Wadling,
Swans,
The Litter,
The New Christs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
The Move,
The Selecter,
Pussy Galore,
Fela Kuti,
Organ,
The American Breed,
Grandmaster Flash,
Amazonics,
Arab on Radar,
Scion,
Scan 7,
The Young Rascals,
E-Dancer,
In Retrospect,
Electric Prunes,
Essential Logic,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Thee Headcoats,
Brass Construction,
Traffic Nightmare,
Peter & Gordon,
Easy Going,
Joy Division,
JFA,
Kerri Chandler,
Nils Olav,
The Real Kids,
Ludus,
Ronan,
Steve Hackett,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tubeway Army,
Theoretical Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soul Sonic Force,
Derrick May,
Flipper,
X-101,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Jacob Miller,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.