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 Guinea-Bissau and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 The Durutti Column to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
LL Cool J,
Neu!,
Tom Boy,
Ten City,
Tears for Fears,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Lou Reed,
The Durutti Column,
Black Bananas,
Young Marble Giants,
Magazine,
Robert Görl,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Erykah Badu,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Royal Trux,
Slick Rick,
Das Ding,
Warren Ellis,
The Selecter,
The Seeds,
Lee Hazlewood,
Iggy Pop,
Index,
John Lydon,
The Smoke,
Quadrant,
Moebius,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Saints,
Deepchord,
U.S. Maple,
These Immortal Souls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pantaleimon,
Lalo Schifrin,
Arcadia,
Marmalade,
Radio Birdman,
Inner City,
The Dirtbombs,
Kerri Chandler,
John Cale,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cluster,
Gang of Four,
Vladislav Delay,
Black Pus,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Carl Craig,
Gil Scott Heron,
Terry Callier,
Crime,
DNA,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Minor Threat,
Sonic Youth,
Little Man,
The Detroit Cobras,
Excepter,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.