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 Singapore and from London.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Deadbeat to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Tears for Fears,
Marc Almond,
Rekid,
Moss Icon,
Camberwell Now,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
DJ Sneak,
Jeru the Damaja,
A Certain Ratio,
The Leaves,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fat Boys,
Avey Tare,
Scrapy,
Porter Ricks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Andrew Hill,
Ludus,
The Techniques,
Stiv Bators,
Graham Central Station,
Isaac Hayes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Mummies,
The Saints,
Lou Reed,
Brass Construction,
Don Cherry,
Harmonia,
Jeff Lynne,
Television,
Fear,
The Fortunes,
Talk Talk,
The Victims,
Colin Newman,
Juan Atkins,
Big Daddy Kane,
Delta 5,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
8 Eyed Spy,
T. Rex,
Goldenarms,
Roxette,
The Seeds,
Nirvana,
Metal Thangz,
The New Christs,
Silicon Teens,
Joyce Sims,
Swell Maps,
Grey Daturas,
Sällskapet,
Suicide,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eli Mardock,
Jerry's Kids,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Remains,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.