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 Panama and from Calgary.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud 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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Slick Rick,
Soulsonic Force,
Lungfish,
Faraquet,
Howard Jones,
Matthew Bourne,
Pierre Henry,
Todd Terry,
Piero Umiliani,
Moby Grape,
Maleditus Sound,
Main Source,
Man Parrish,
Davy DMX,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dawn Penn,
Slave,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deepchord,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Moleskins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Connie Case,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Grauzone,
Organ,
Shuggie Otis,
the Soft Cell,
The Angels of Light,
The Monks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cymande,
Dead Boys,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Basic Channel,
Second Layer,
Can,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mad Mike,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cheater Slicks,
Alphaville,
Section 25,
Stetsasonic,
The Count Five,
Johnny Clarke,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Dead C,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The New Christs,
Wings,
Pet Shop Boys,
Absolute Body Control,
Blossom Toes,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.