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 Madagascar and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Michelle Simonal to the grime 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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Thee Headcoats,
Big Daddy Kane,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ponytail,
Avey Tare,
Slave,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Todd Terry,
Qualms,
Barrington Levy,
Sun City Girls,
Lalann,
Erasure,
Wally Richardson,
John Lydon,
The Martian,
Bootsy Collins,
Crooked Eye,
Brothers Johnson,
Harmonia,
Bobby Byrd,
Pere Ubu,
The Angels of Light,
Janne Schatter,
Joey Negro,
Trumans Water,
Fear,
the Soft Cell,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Raincoats,
Andrew Hill,
Godley & Creme,
A Certain Ratio,
The Kinks,
Idris Muhammad,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Suicide,
Kenny Larkin,
Easy Going,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
K-Klass,
Laurel Aitken,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Heaven 17,
Supertramp,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gong,
Rufus Thomas,
Motorama,
Max Romeo,
Television,
Parry Music,
Kool Moe Dee,
Brass Construction,
Little Man,
Howard Jones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.