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 United States and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Pere Ubu to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
The Five Americans,
Deadbeat,
Nico,
Desert Stars,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eve St. Jones,
Blancmange,
Eurythmics,
Icehouse,
Yaz,
The Index,
The Happenings,
Junior Murvin,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tom Boy,
The Litter,
Pulsallama,
Althea and Donna,
Bob Dylan,
Rhythm & Sound,
Brothers Johnson,
Rotary Connection,
Urselle,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Boredoms,
D'Angelo,
Peter and Kerry,
Vladislav Delay,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Avey Tare,
Ossler,
Motorama,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kas Product,
Technova,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Masters at Work,
The Gladiators,
Black Bananas,
The Fortunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Magazine,
the Slits,
Television Personalities,
The Offenders,
Cal Tjader,
Silicon Teens,
K-Klass,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tim Buckley,
Todd Rundgren,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Stooges,
Babytalk,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bobby Womack,
Soft Machine,
The American Breed,
Sex Pistols,
Matthew Halsall,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.