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 Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Judy Mowatt to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Soul II Soul. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rakim,
The Searchers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
MDC,
Negative Approach,
Inner City,
The Gun Club,
Angry Samoans,
Barrington Levy,
Brick,
The Moleskins,
Rosa Yemen,
Crooked Eye,
Gang of Four,
Kaleidoscope,
Mo-Dettes,
Vladislav Delay,
Kurtis Blow,
New Age Steppers,
Mantronix,
Eve St. Jones,
Bill Wells,
Blossom Toes,
Procol Harum,
Sister Nancy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Second Layer,
June Days,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Danielle Patucci,
X-Ray Spex,
This Heat,
Althea and Donna,
Sun City Girls,
Charles Mingus,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Amazonics,
Davy DMX,
Jeff Mills,
Ossler,
The Index,
the Sonics,
Joey Negro,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Angels of Light,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Joe Smooth,
The Techniques,
Clear Light,
Hoover,
Wasted Youth,
Sandy B,
X-102,
Fatback Band,
Lou Reed,
Rites of Spring,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gerry Rafferty,
Q65,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.