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 Namibia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb 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 Althea and Donna to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Aswad,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Motions,
Avey Tare,
The Moleskins,
Wolf Eyes,
Soft Machine,
Joe Smooth,
The Gladiators,
The Index,
Joey Negro,
Josef K,
Massinfluence,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Cramps,
the Sonics,
FM Einheit,
Shuggie Otis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Whodini,
Prince Buster,
Bob Dylan,
Bronski Beat,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Bar-Kays,
The Human League,
Angry Samoans,
David Bowie,
X-Ray Spex,
The Stooges,
Flamin' Groovies,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bobby Womack,
The Remains,
R.M.O.,
Organ,
Trumans Water,
Masters at Work,
Byron Stingily,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
A Certain Ratio,
Pussy Galore,
The Saints,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Boredoms,
Depeche Mode,
Fear,
the Slits,
Marshall Jefferson,
ABBA,
Cymande,
Radiohead,
Peter & Gordon,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Public Enemy,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Soft Cell,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.