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 St Lucia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Johannesburg.
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 arpeggiator 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Graham Central Station,
Country Teasers,
Section 25,
Scientists,
Moss Icon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Stiv Bators,
Kenny Larkin,
Matthew Bourne,
Heaven 17,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Guru Guru,
Freddie Wadling,
The Young Rascals,
Howard Jones,
Popol Vuh,
Crooked Eye,
The Wake,
Minor Threat,
Easy Going,
Yellowson,
Aloha Tigers,
Bill Near,
cv313,
Gastr Del Sol,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Blake Baxter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Funky Four + One,
Byron Stingily,
Arcadia,
The Music Machine,
Sister Nancy,
FM Einheit,
Yazoo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mission of Burma,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Scrapy,
Absolute Body Control,
Dual Sessions,
Joey Negro,
Bootsy Collins,
Ossler,
Unwound,
Prince Buster,
Motorama,
Amon Düül II,
John Coltrane,
Icehouse,
Johnny Clarke,
Siglo XX,
Visage,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Magazine,
Gang Starr,
The Durutti Column,
Rotary Connection,
Wally Richardson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Dead C,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.