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 Panama and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Sao Paulo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 snare 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 Pharoah Sanders to the rock 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Skaos,
Royal Trux,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Clear Light,
Nik Kershaw,
Ronnie Foster,
T. Rex,
Bob Dylan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Outsiders,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Real Kids,
Laurel Aitken,
Lakeside,
Magazine,
Flash Fearless,
Essential Logic,
Sun Ra,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Oblivians,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Hardrive,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Vogues,
The New Christs,
Groovy Waters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Urselle,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Happenings,
Lindisfarne,
Moby Grape,
The Monks,
Kerri Chandler,
Fatback Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Derrick May,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sight & Sound,
D'Angelo,
Livin' Joy,
Jerry's Kids,
Mandrill,
The Moody Blues,
Schoolly D,
Graham Central Station,
Ultimate Spinach,
Japan,
Camberwell Now,
Rufus Thomas,
Das Ding,
The Pretty Things,
Minutemen,
The Cowsills,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.