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 Venezuela and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator 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 DJ Sneak to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pussy Galore,
The Angels of Light,
Erykah Badu,
Andrew Hill,
The Fire Engines,
Scientists,
Morten Harket,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Buckinghams,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Gun Club,
Mad Mike,
June of 44,
In Retrospect,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Harmonia,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ken Boothe,
Anthony Braxton,
The Slackers,
Nico,
Hot Snakes,
Juan Atkins,
Kool Moe Dee,
UT,
Dead Boys,
David Bowie,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
E-Dancer,
Roxy Music,
Gabor Szabo,
Fatback Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Kurtis Blow,
Icehouse,
Rapeman,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Shuggie Otis,
Negative Approach,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Walker Brothers,
The Leaves,
Wire,
Rakim,
Grey Daturas,
Moebius,
The Sound,
The Fall,
Sällskapet,
Tom Boy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Banda Bassotti,
Roger Hodgson,
Brick,
Flipper,
Quantec,
Livin' Joy,
The Seeds,
Sonic Youth,
Duran Duran,
Soulsonic Force,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.