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 Germany and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the crunk 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Tim Buckley,
The Busters,
The Zeros,
Chris & Cosey,
The Leaves,
Maurizio,
Q and Not U,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Erasure,
Goldenarms,
Flipper,
The Modern Lovers,
Donny Hathaway,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gang of Four,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Malaria!,
Sister Nancy,
Au Pairs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Magazine,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lyres,
Silicon Teens,
Danielle Patucci,
Ossler,
The Music Machine,
Livin' Joy,
Nik Kershaw,
Roxy Music,
Wally Richardson,
Tomorrow,
Ice-T,
Jawbox,
The Slits,
Ultravox,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Skatalites,
Barbara Tucker,
Wasted Youth,
Tears for Fears,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Harmonia,
The Fugs,
Robert Görl,
The Tremeloes,
Derrick Morgan,
Easy Going,
Jeff Mills,
Gong,
Zero Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dead Boys,
Nick Fraelich,
Mad Mike,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mr. Review,
The Pop Group,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.