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 Ireland and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Zero Boys to the funk 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Doobie Brothers,
Audionom,
48th St. Collective,
Mandrill,
Average White Band,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ponytail,
John Holt,
Unrelated Segments,
Spandau Ballet,
Kaleidoscope,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tubeway Army,
B.T. Express,
the Human League,
Technova,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dawn Penn,
Magma,
Wings,
The Remains,
Y Pants,
David Bowie,
Kevin Saunderson,
Zapp,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lee Hazlewood,
Crooked Eye,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brick,
Loose Ends,
Scion,
Matthew Halsall,
Joyce Sims,
Qualms,
Masters at Work,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Oneida,
The Fortunes,
The Cowsills,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nick Fraelich,
The New Christs,
Glenn Branca,
Crispian St. Peters,
Graham Central Station,
Bobby Womack,
Moebius,
Gong,
Subhumans,
Khruangbin,
Los Fastidios,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Litter,
Harpers Bizarre,
Theoretical Girls,
The Seeds,
The Angels of Light,
Camberwell Now,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.