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 Mauritania and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fania All-Stars to the grunge 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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s 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 Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Aswad,
Suicide,
The Blues Magoos,
Heaven 17,
Cybotron,
Scrapy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Faraquet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pagans,
The Leaves,
Funky Four + One,
Liliput,
Fugazi,
The Electric Prunes,
Lou Christie,
Sparks,
Section 25,
Joe Finger,
Ituana,
Bush Tetras,
Tres Demented,
Eric Copeland,
Eve St. Jones,
Isaac Hayes,
FM Einheit,
The Slits,
Charles Mingus,
Babytalk,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Smoke,
John Cale,
Magma,
Yazoo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bobby Womack,
Throbbing Gristle,
Anakelly,
Moby Grape,
Michelle Simonal,
Make Up,
The Happenings,
Letta Mbulu,
The Move,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Reagan Youth,
Rod Modell,
Simply Red,
The Misunderstood,
ABBA,
Audionom,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Organ,
The Associates,
Minny Pops,
Angry Samoans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Albert Ayler,
Marine Girls,
Graham Central Station,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.