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 Sri Lanka and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Television Personalities to the grime 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Aswad,
Urselle,
The Trojans,
The Selecter,
Donny Hathaway,
Banda Bassotti,
Blake Baxter,
ABC,
Jeff Mills,
Rotary Connection,
Echospace,
The Mummies,
Scan 7,
The Associates,
Pagans,
Funkadelic,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pet Shop Boys,
Robert Görl,
Henry Cow,
China Crisis,
Marc Almond,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ponytail,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tommy Roe,
The Star Department,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
MDC,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Public Enemy,
Carl Craig,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Happenings,
Eli Mardock,
Scion,
Charles Mingus,
The Offenders,
Stereo Dub,
Skarface,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
T. Rex,
Ronan,
Crime,
Minny Pops,
Buzzcocks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
John Foxx,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sugar Minott,
The Mojo Men,
David Axelrod,
Fela Kuti,
The Modern Lovers,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Slits,
Oblivians,
Kerri Chandler,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sixth Finger,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.