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 Fiji and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 güiro 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 B.T. Express to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Al Stewart,
Country Teasers,
Robert Hood,
Altered Images,
Spoonie Gee,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Flag,
Darondo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Cure,
Suburban Knight,
Kerri Chandler,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Delta 5,
Eric Dolphy,
Toni Rubio,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gong,
Nas,
The Zeros,
Organ,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Roger Hodgson,
H. Thieme,
Aswad,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Sound,
Stockholm Monsters,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
KRS-One,
Flipper,
Surgeon,
Yellowson,
Amon Düül,
Zero Boys,
Rites of Spring,
Danielle Patucci,
Kurtis Blow,
Magazine,
June of 44,
Minor Threat,
The Residents,
Kas Product,
The Moody Blues,
Sound Behaviour,
Circle Jerks,
Japan,
The Blues Magoos,
Alton Ellis,
Bill Near,
Marc Almond,
Desert Stars,
The Dead C,
Masters at Work,
Make Up,
Au Pairs,
Scratch Acid,
Second Layer,
The Golliwogs,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.