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 Hungary and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bologna.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Barbara Tucker to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Stetsasonic,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fear,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sun City Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Boz Scaggs,
Man Parrish,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Accadde A,
David Axelrod,
Tubeway Army,
Eric Dolphy,
Max Romeo,
Barclay James Harvest,
H. Thieme,
Zero Boys,
Cluster,
The Invisible,
Bobby Womack,
Glenn Branca,
Aloha Tigers,
Prince Buster,
Kayak,
Roy Ayers,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Sound,
Oblivians,
The Litter,
Depeche Mode,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Happenings,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Deadbeat,
Bill Wells,
Todd Terry,
Iggy Pop,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pagans,
Kerri Chandler,
Slick Rick,
Toni Rubio,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Green,
New York Dolls,
Wings,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sugar Minott,
Sam Rivers,
In Retrospect,
New Order,
Amon Düül,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.