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 Djibouti and from Milan.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bush Tetras to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Grass Roots,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sugar Minott,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Toasters,
X-101,
Suicide,
Rites of Spring,
Pere Ubu,
Soul II Soul,
Sällskapet,
D'Angelo,
Brick,
Aswad,
It's A Beautiful Day,
48th St. Collective,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Von Mondo,
Alice Coltrane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Graham Central Station,
Organ,
The Birthday Party,
Scrapy,
Vladislav Delay,
Gichy Dan,
Youth Brigade,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nick Fraelich,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Das Ding,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Kinks,
DJ Style,
Tim Buckley,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Thee Headcoats,
Talk Talk,
Chrome,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marmalade,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
UT,
Ken Boothe,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Selecter,
The Searchers,
Ornette Coleman,
Flash Fearless,
Ohio Players,
Nik Kershaw,
The Offenders,
Prince Buster,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Drexciya,
The Vogues,
Crooked Eye,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.