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 Egypt and from Portland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Flash Fearless to the crunk 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Cameo,
Cheater Slicks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Buzzcocks,
Deakin,
Fat Boys,
The Beau Brummels,
The Toasters,
Organ,
F. McDonald,
Peter and Kerry,
Maleditus Sound,
Swans,
Bobby Sherman,
Yusef Lateef,
The Walker Brothers,
This Heat,
JFA,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rapeman,
Scientists,
The Count Five,
Urselle,
The Stooges,
The Last Poets,
Radiohead,
Oblivians,
Sight & Sound,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dennis Brown,
Isaac Hayes,
Bad Manners,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
X-Ray Spex,
Echospace,
Quando Quango,
Jeff Mills,
Jeff Lynne,
Ohio Players,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Star Department,
Yaz,
Toni Rubio,
Althea and Donna,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eric B and Rakim,
World's Most,
the Association,
Moby Grape,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Simply Red,
Roxette,
Massinfluence,
Royal Trux,
Warsaw,
Whodini,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fire Engines,
Susan Cadogan,
The Gladiators,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.