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 New Zealand and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 rhodes 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Urselle,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Trojans,
the Soft Cell,
Monolake,
Neu!,
Soul II Soul,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Connie Case,
Q and Not U,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
X-101,
The Modern Lovers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Television,
Mo-Dettes,
Reuben Wilson,
Ken Boothe,
the Germs,
Ten City,
Swell Maps,
The Cramps,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mars,
Camberwell Now,
Agitation Free,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bill Wells,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lightning Bolt,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crispy Ambulance,
Blancmange,
Electric Prunes,
ABC,
Little Man,
Rakim,
the Human League,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ronan,
Cheater Slicks,
The Buckinghams,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Grass Roots,
Vladislav Delay,
The Fugs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gabor Szabo,
UT,
Archie Shepp,
MDC,
Eli Mardock,
Sarah Menescal,
Jimmy McGriff,
The American Breed,
Con Funk Shun,
Cecil Taylor,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.