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 Belarus and from Calgary.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mr. Review to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Massinfluence,
Tears for Fears,
Erasure,
The Dead C,
The Names,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Buckinghams,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Nas,
Agent Orange,
Crash Course in Science,
The Mummies,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
A Certain Ratio,
The Evens,
Gang Starr,
Andrew Hill,
Kerri Chandler,
48th St. Collective,
Soft Machine,
Flash Fearless,
The Slits,
Patti Smith,
Pere Ubu,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Divine Comedy,
The Blackbyrds,
Arcadia,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Man Eating Sloth,
Judy Mowatt,
Al Stewart,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Seeds,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rufus Thomas,
Bush Tetras,
Graham Central Station,
Zero Boys,
Pantytec,
The Martian,
DJ Style,
Magazine,
The Kinks,
the Bar-Kays,
Vainqueur,
Man Parrish,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Adolescents,
Bill Wells,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Saints,
The Knickerbockers,
Anthony Braxton,
Tubeway Army,
Second Layer,
Hot Snakes,
Bluetip,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Cramps,
Faust,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.