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 Barbados and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 arpeggiator 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Absolute Body Control,
Maleditus Sound,
The Index,
Pierre Henry,
Ultravox,
Darondo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Echospace,
Whodini,
The Gun Club,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Soft Cell,
A Certain Ratio,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Sonics,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
New Order,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Magazine,
Faust,
Minny Pops,
This Heat,
Moby Grape,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Roxy Music,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marc Almond,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Skriet,
Zero Boys,
KRS-One,
Bob Dylan,
Erasure,
Newcleus,
The Litter,
Rakim,
Charles Mingus,
Qualms,
Kaleidoscope,
Radiopuhelimet,
Accadde A,
Harmonia,
Isaac Hayes,
a-ha,
Harry Pussy,
Marmalade,
Aswad,
The Fire Engines,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Stetsasonic,
The Cure,
Bobby Womack,
Donald Byrd,
Derrick Morgan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Schoolly D,
David Axelrod,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.