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 Monaco and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the dance 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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Max Romeo,
The Monks,
Fluxion,
Al Stewart,
Idris Muhammad,
The Gories,
the Fania All-Stars,
Amazonics,
John Lydon,
James White and The Blacks,
the Human League,
Deepchord,
Yellowson,
Royal Trux,
Bobby Byrd,
Pole,
The Leaves,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Mojo Men,
Jeff Lynne,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Make Up,
Aloha Tigers,
Rufus Thomas,
Marc Almond,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bill Wells,
The Selecter,
Brand Nubian,
Reuben Wilson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Stockholm Monsters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Cowsills,
Audionom,
Pierre Henry,
Mo-Dettes,
The Moody Blues,
Pantytec,
The Doors,
Pylon,
Joey Negro,
Mandrill,
The Standells,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Moleskins,
Black Bananas,
Minny Pops,
Angry Samoans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Pop Group,
Clear Light,
Cheater Slicks,
Tubeway Army,
Jeff Mills,
The Skatalites,
Dark Day,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.