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 Saudi Arabia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rapeman to the crunk 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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Duran Duran,
Parry Music,
Marc Almond,
Bobby Womack,
Wolf Eyes,
UT,
Slick Rick,
The Dirtbombs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pole,
China Crisis,
The Zeros,
Grey Daturas,
The Star Department,
Nation of Ulysses,
Colin Newman,
Negative Approach,
Wally Richardson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Yazoo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gang Starr,
Soul Sonic Force,
Hardrive,
Carl Craig,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eddi Front,
Tears for Fears,
Susan Cadogan,
Marine Girls,
Absolute Body Control,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mark Hollis,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Cure,
Soulsonic Force,
Mad Mike,
Joensuu 1685,
Suicide,
The Kinks,
Isaac Hayes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Saccharine Trust,
Fluxion,
Wasted Youth,
Sugar Minott,
The Misunderstood,
The Dead C,
Ossler,
Bob Dylan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Frankie Knuckles,
Accadde A,
Talk Talk,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rod Modell,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.