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 Jamaica and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 808 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 The Busters to the punk 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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Interpol,
Bobby Womack,
Pantytec,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Yellowson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The American Breed,
Kenny Larkin,
Shuggie Otis,
Slave,
Flash Fearless,
The Zeros,
Minutemen,
Babytalk,
Stiv Bators,
Make Up,
Fat Boys,
The Knickerbockers,
EPMD,
Schoolly D,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bill Near,
Fad Gadget,
Scientists,
Smog,
The Happenings,
The Real Kids,
Cymande,
The Offenders,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
F. McDonald,
Au Pairs,
The Toasters,
Black Pus,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ken Boothe,
Mo-Dettes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Erykah Badu,
Mad Mike,
The Fire Engines,
The Last Poets,
ABC,
Joy Division,
Bad Manners,
Intrusion,
Tom Boy,
Negative Approach,
Television Personalities,
The Skatalites,
Cameo,
Flipper,
Hoover,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deepchord,
D'Angelo,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.