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 Malaysia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 New Order to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a It's A Beautiful Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Model 500,
John Holt,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marvin Gaye,
Index,
Pere Ubu,
Andrew Hill,
New Age Steppers,
Monolake,
Excepter,
Goldenarms,
Ossler,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Radiopuhelimet,
Nik Kershaw,
B.T. Express,
Althea and Donna,
The Martian,
Nils Olav,
Little Man,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The New Christs,
Basic Channel,
Inner City,
Liliput,
Grauzone,
Michelle Simonal,
Alton Ellis,
the Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Stooges,
Delon & Dalcan,
Thee Headcoats,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
These Immortal Souls,
Wire,
The Flesh Eaters,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
AZ,
Unrelated Segments,
The Young Rascals,
Khruangbin,
Eli Mardock,
Scrapy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Robert Wyatt,
Theoretical Girls,
The Remains,
The Detroit Cobras,
Charles Mingus,
The Knickerbockers,
Harmonia,
H. Thieme,
Chris & Cosey,
The Zeros,
Nico,
Blossom Toes,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.