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 Laos and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 T. Rex to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
MDC,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pantytec,
Jandek,
Yazoo,
Godley & Creme,
Livin' Joy,
Laurel Aitken,
Crispy Ambulance,
Royal Trux,
Country Teasers,
Gichy Dan,
Simply Red,
Bobby Womack,
Bluetip,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
John Cale,
Cecil Taylor,
James White and The Blacks,
The Human League,
T.S.O.L.,
Jerry's Kids,
Black Flag,
Davy DMX,
The Offenders,
Terrestrial Tones,
Stereo Dub,
UT,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hardrive,
Soft Cell,
The Smoke,
Amon Düül II,
Connie Case,
the Association,
Swans,
Swell Maps,
The Divine Comedy,
ABC,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
ABBA,
The Martian,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rapeman,
Inner City,
Model 500,
Tubeway Army,
Subhumans,
The American Breed,
Public Enemy,
Make Up,
Marc Almond,
Matthew Halsall,
The Selecter,
Desert Stars,
Shuggie Otis,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sam Rivers,
Scion,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.