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 Bahamas and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Germs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Trojans,
Godley & Creme,
Jeff Mills,
Nils Olav,
Cluster,
Urselle,
Ultravox,
John Lydon,
New Order,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Arcadia,
Motorama,
The Move,
John Coltrane,
Joe Finger,
Fatback Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Parry Music,
Brand Nubian,
The Five Americans,
Guru Guru,
John Foxx,
48th St. Collective,
David Axelrod,
Electric Prunes,
Cybotron,
Warren Ellis,
Babytalk,
Organ,
Franke,
Oneida,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Black Dice,
Public Image Ltd.,
Thee Headcoats,
Harmonia,
Duran Duran,
Youth Brigade,
Flipper,
Lalann,
Idris Muhammad,
Ultra Naté,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Young Rascals,
The Evens,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Slick Rick,
Pantaleimon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Human League,
The Sonics,
The Slits,
The Victims,
Adolescents,
Liliput,
Drexciya,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.