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 Liberia and from Shanghai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Swell Maps to the rock 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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Model 500,
Ohio Players,
Second Layer,
The American Breed,
The Gories,
Soul II Soul,
Robert Hood,
The Doobie Brothers,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Goldenarms,
Kurtis Blow,
Magazine,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tears for Fears,
Jawbox,
Motorama,
ABC,
Echospace,
Minny Pops,
Albert Ayler,
Bang On A Can,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kenny Larkin,
Bush Tetras,
The Gladiators,
Flamin' Groovies,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Modern Lovers,
Rites of Spring,
Magma,
The Five Americans,
The Gap Band,
Gang Starr,
Fear,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Grey Daturas,
Derrick May,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Names,
Scott Walker,
Malaria!,
Y Pants,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pantaleimon,
Deakin,
Ultimate Spinach,
Brand Nubian,
Clear Light,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Organ,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jacques Brel,
Spoonie Gee,
Lalann,
Prince Buster,
The Music Machine,
Intrusion,
Oblivians,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.