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 Syria and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 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 The Red Krayola to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Judy Mowatt,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Moody Blues,
Nik Kershaw,
Surgeon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
PIL,
MDC,
Underground Resistance,
The Smoke,
X-Ray Spex,
Spoonie Gee,
Scion,
Cal Tjader,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pylon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crime,
Ronan,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fire Engines,
Lungfish,
Wolf Eyes,
Rosa Yemen,
Oneida,
John Holt,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Birthday Party,
FM Einheit,
Crooked Eye,
UT,
Man Eating Sloth,
Loose Ends,
Radiopuhelimet,
Girls At Our Best!,
Harry Pussy,
The Blues Magoos,
The Music Machine,
The Human League,
Mandrill,
Electric Prunes,
The Remains,
Arthur Verocai,
Rufus Thomas,
Funky Four + One,
Pantaleimon,
Peter & Gordon,
Boredoms,
New Order,
Q65,
Yellowson,
Index,
The Velvet Underground,
the Swans,
Grey Daturas,
Charles Mingus,
Mo-Dettes,
Audionom,
Kerri Chandler,
The Beau Brummels,
The Fortunes,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.