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 Nauru and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Wasted Youth to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Human League,
Lyres,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Amazonics,
Black Sheep,
Schoolly D,
Pulsallama,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Michelle Simonal,
Cameo,
The Electric Prunes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Magma,
DJ Style,
Donny Hathaway,
The American Breed,
Max Romeo,
Eric Copeland,
La Düsseldorf,
In Retrospect,
Swell Maps,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Red Krayola,
Ice-T,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Deepchord,
FM Einheit,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rosa Yemen,
Morten Harket,
Hardrive,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roy Ayers,
Gong,
Grandmaster Flash,
Circle Jerks,
Agent Orange,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fad Gadget,
Eden Ahbez,
Duran Duran,
Black Moon,
Lebanon Hanover,
T.S.O.L.,
Bill Wells,
Fat Boys,
Sarah Menescal,
Grauzone,
The Selecter,
the Soft Cell,
Lakeside,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Evens,
EPMD,
T. Rex,
John Holt,
The United States of America,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.