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 Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 The Cure to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tomorrow,
Slick Rick,
Radiohead,
The Vogues,
Procol Harum,
Gang Gang Dance,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
D'Angelo,
Nils Olav,
Bootsy Collins,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Scrapy,
The Fire Engines,
Shuggie Otis,
The Walker Brothers,
Suicide,
The Human League,
The New Christs,
Jeff Lynne,
Fugazi,
Pylon,
Underground Resistance,
Tim Buckley,
Accadde A,
Wally Richardson,
Funky Four + One,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Gun Club,
Eric B and Rakim,
Josef K,
Wasted Youth,
Albert Ayler,
Magazine,
Cybotron,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Thee Headcoats,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Association,
Jeru the Damaja,
DJ Sneak,
The Last Poets,
Aaron Thompson,
48th St. Collective,
Rod Modell,
Cymande,
Metal Thangz,
Chris Corsano,
Piero Umiliani,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Gories,
John Holt,
Sandy B,
Alton Ellis,
Lebanon Hanover,
Inner City,
Ultra Naté,
Zero Boys,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.