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 Angola and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Accra.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Dark Day to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Arthur Verocai,
Matthew Bourne,
Yellowson,
The Leaves,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Bush Tetras,
Cybotron,
Main Source,
Maleditus Sound,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Holt,
Lungfish,
Bad Manners,
Excepter,
Lou Christie,
The Knickerbockers,
Swans,
Aloha Tigers,
Isaac Hayes,
Peter & Gordon,
In Retrospect,
Erasure,
The Sonics,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Popol Vuh,
The Remains,
Fatback Band,
Skaos,
Simply Red,
The Fall,
Terrestrial Tones,
Don Cherry,
Mars,
Eric B and Rakim,
Michelle Simonal,
D'Angelo,
Leonard Cohen,
Lou Reed,
Half Japanese,
June Days,
the Swans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Young Rascals,
Nas,
Goldenarms,
Eric Copeland,
Ice-T,
Massinfluence,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gun Club,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Golliwogs,
The Gap Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ronnie Foster,
Nirvana,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Real Kids,
Radio Birdman,
The Cramps,
Newcleus,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.