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 St Lucia and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Taipei.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Aswad to the funk 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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Mars,
New Order,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Blancmange,
Bang On A Can,
Surgeon,
Cymande,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Joy Division,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Throbbing Gristle,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minutemen,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Neil Young,
Jerry's Kids,
Marshall Jefferson,
T.S.O.L.,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Donald Byrd,
The Red Krayola,
Radio Birdman,
Wings,
Maleditus Sound,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Minny Pops,
Charles Mingus,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ornette Coleman,
The Gories,
Severed Heads,
The Doors,
DNA,
Lightning Bolt,
Newcleus,
John Coltrane,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Thee Headcoats,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Subhumans,
The Cramps,
The United States of America,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ice-T,
The Gladiators,
Darondo,
Cheater Slicks,
Juan Atkins,
The Human League,
Bobby Womack,
Lee Hazlewood,
Skriet,
Japan,
Eurythmics,
the Swans,
Goldenarms,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.