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 Marshall Islands and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lagos.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Bang On A Can to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma 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 organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fugs,
Swans,
Thee Headcoats,
the Germs,
The Birthday Party,
Boz Scaggs,
H. Thieme,
Darondo,
This Heat,
Eddi Front,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Inner City,
Altered Images,
Youth Brigade,
Carl Craig,
Ohio Players,
Liliput,
Public Image Ltd.,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tres Demented,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Minor Threat,
Godley & Creme,
The Moody Blues,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Public Enemy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Popol Vuh,
Lakeside,
B.T. Express,
The Stooges,
The Real Kids,
Con Funk Shun,
The Cramps,
Kurtis Blow,
The Divine Comedy,
Angry Samoans,
The Beau Brummels,
Eric B and Rakim,
Qualms,
Amon Düül,
James White and The Blacks,
Harry Pussy,
the Human League,
Crash Course in Science,
Lungfish,
Mantronix,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Pus,
Sparks,
The Golliwogs,
Fat Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Anthony Braxton,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Janne Schatter,
The Smiths,
Banda Bassotti,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.