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 New Zealand and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Madrid.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 DNA to the jazz 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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Fad Gadget,
The Cure,
Wings,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pet Shop Boys,
China Crisis,
DNA,
The Count Five,
New Order,
Radio Birdman,
Magma,
The Happenings,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Susan Cadogan,
Kurtis Blow,
These Immortal Souls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mantronix,
The Fall,
ABC,
Brass Construction,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lalann,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rakim,
Pierre Henry,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Normal,
The Gladiators,
Letta Mbulu,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Seeds,
Jimmy McGriff,
Duran Duran,
Brick,
Joensuu 1685,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Womack,
Lalo Schifrin,
Babytalk,
Sällskapet,
Hashim,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Kinks,
Brothers Johnson,
Spandau Ballet,
David Bowie,
UT,
Carl Craig,
ABBA,
Janne Schatter,
Quantec,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Arcadia,
Joy Division,
Bobby Byrd,
Interpol,
Glenn Branca,
Aswad,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.