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 Australia and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Loose Ends to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Fugazi,
Maurizio,
Brothers Johnson,
X-102,
The Invisible,
Amon Düül II,
Bill Near,
Jacob Miller,
The Kinks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Camberwell Now,
Terrestrial Tones,
Derrick May,
Von Mondo,
The Slackers,
Con Funk Shun,
Deepchord,
Desert Stars,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
LL Cool J,
Amon Düül,
Heaven 17,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ralphi Rosario,
CMW,
Popol Vuh,
New Age Steppers,
Eddi Front,
Bill Wells,
Royal Trux,
Max Romeo,
Crooked Eye,
Los Fastidios,
Marcia Griffiths,
Monolake,
Rosa Yemen,
Radio Birdman,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Althea and Donna,
The Grass Roots,
Ohio Players,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bobby Sherman,
Index,
The Monks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Shoche,
Niagra,
Hashim,
The Fall,
Camouflage,
Wally Richardson,
Fad Gadget,
Warren Ellis,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
World's Most,
the Sonics,
Thee Headcoats,
Newcleus,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.