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 New Zealand and from Portland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord 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 Essential Logic to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Germs,
Black Pus,
The Dead C,
Eden Ahbez,
Dawn Penn,
Janne Schatter,
The Beau Brummels,
John Foxx,
Sun Ra,
Spandau Ballet,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Divine Comedy,
Lucky Dragons,
The J.B.'s,
Colin Newman,
Moss Icon,
Rod Modell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Frankie Knuckles,
DNA,
Neu!,
The Monochrome Set,
Parry Music,
Q65,
Shuggie Otis,
Audionom,
Blossom Toes,
Stereo Dub,
Funky Four + One,
Section 25,
Mark Hollis,
Loose Ends,
Pharoah Sanders,
Judy Mowatt,
Dual Sessions,
Unwound,
B.T. Express,
Glenn Branca,
The United States of America,
Electric Prunes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Saccharine Trust,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Minor Threat,
UT,
A Certain Ratio,
Jimmy McGriff,
K-Klass,
The Moleskins,
Dead Boys,
Outsiders,
Bang On A Can,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Johnny Clarke,
The Searchers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Busters,
the Sonics,
the Normal,
H. Thieme,
In Retrospect,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.