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 Belgium and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Stockholm.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Count Five to the grunge 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D 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?
Yellowson,
The Black Dice,
Lightning Bolt,
X-101,
Lower 48,
Reuben Wilson,
LL Cool J,
Buzzcocks,
Roy Ayers,
The Gories,
Animal Collective,
Fad Gadget,
the Fania All-Stars,
Television Personalities,
Funky Four + One,
Visage,
Public Image Ltd.,
Donald Byrd,
Y Pants,
Howard Jones,
Susan Cadogan,
Scientists,
Soft Machine,
Skarface,
Marmalade,
Robert Hood,
Nick Fraelich,
Josef K,
Sandy B,
Eli Mardock,
Eric Dolphy,
cv313,
Black Pus,
Suicide,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tim Buckley,
Joy Division,
The Raincoats,
Lucky Dragons,
Rekid,
Magazine,
Intrusion,
Jandek,
Thee Headcoats,
Con Funk Shun,
New Age Steppers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Fall,
Country Teasers,
Lou Reed,
H. Thieme,
Arab on Radar,
Outsiders,
The Busters,
Gichy Dan,
Los Fastidios,
The Barracudas,
Technova,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Severed Heads,
Juan Atkins,
Gabor Szabo,
Jeff Mills,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.