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 Honduras and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 The Human League to the rock 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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
the Sonics,
The Trojans,
Sällskapet,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Byron Stingily,
Soft Machine,
The Tremeloes,
Albert Ayler,
Minny Pops,
Marvin Gaye,
Altered Images,
Hasil Adkins,
The Raincoats,
Gang of Four,
Robert Görl,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Womack,
Swell Maps,
the Association,
The Angels of Light,
The Doors,
Echospace,
Chrome,
John Lydon,
Royal Trux,
Leonard Cohen,
Procol Harum,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Anthony Braxton,
The Kinks,
Roy Ayers,
Bob Dylan,
The American Breed,
T.S.O.L.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Slick Rick,
Symarip,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Monochrome Set,
The Moleskins,
Joe Finger,
Johnny Osbourne,
Metal Thangz,
E-Dancer,
Outsiders,
Joensuu 1685,
Lungfish,
Barbara Tucker,
Robert Hood,
Silicon Teens,
Harpers Bizarre,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Pretty Things,
Suburban Knight,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
R.M.O.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Harry Pussy,
Reagan Youth,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.