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 Venezuela and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 mellotron 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 The J.B.'s to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pagans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pylon,
Spandau Ballet,
Lower 48,
Unwound,
John Foxx,
Rod Modell,
The Gap Band,
Brand Nubian,
Prince Buster,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Real Kids,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Slick Rick,
Chrome,
Cybotron,
A Certain Ratio,
Funky Four + One,
Henry Cow,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
June Days,
The Divine Comedy,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Kinks,
Soft Machine,
Heaven 17,
Roxy Music,
The Fire Engines,
The Residents,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Cramps,
New Age Steppers,
Newcleus,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ultra Naté,
Joey Negro,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
X-102,
Kurtis Blow,
Sarah Menescal,
Deadbeat,
The Mojo Men,
Black Bananas,
Anakelly,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Music Machine,
Lee Hazlewood,
Supertramp,
Pantaleimon,
The Walker Brothers,
a-ha,
Michelle Simonal,
UT,
Sällskapet,
The Five Americans,
Eddi Front,
Soul II Soul,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Absolute Body Control,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.