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 Kuwait and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar 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 Pantytec to the rap 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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Ronan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pole,
Marmalade,
Livin' Joy,
Roger Hodgson,
Scratch Acid,
Marine Girls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Skaos,
Morten Harket,
Yazoo,
Prince Buster,
Dead Boys,
Suburban Knight,
Section 25,
Pierre Henry,
The Shadows of Knight,
DJ Sneak,
Wolf Eyes,
The Young Rascals,
Television Personalities,
Cymande,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Sherman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Erasure,
Zero Boys,
Visage,
Alton Ellis,
The American Breed,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Organ,
Faust,
Terry Callier,
Rekid,
the Swans,
Los Fastidios,
Carl Craig,
John Holt,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mark Hollis,
Audionom,
K-Klass,
Interpol,
Letta Mbulu,
Das Ding,
Y Pants,
The Smoke,
Urselle,
David Axelrod,
Silicon Teens,
The Skatalites,
Joy Division,
Boredoms,
The Associates,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Toasters,
Eric B and Rakim,
Stiv Bators,
Ornette Coleman,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.