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 Lesotho and from Delhi.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin 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 Kerrie Biddell to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Roger Hodgson,
E-Dancer,
Pharoah Sanders,
D'Angelo,
Cheater Slicks,
The Last Poets,
Pierre Henry,
Malaria!,
Alphaville,
Thee Headcoats,
James White and The Blacks,
Pere Ubu,
Bobby Sherman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Martian,
CMW,
Lower 48,
Peter and Kerry,
New York Dolls,
Negative Approach,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marvin Gaye,
Don Cherry,
Quantec,
The Evens,
Soulsonic Force,
Loose Ends,
Gang of Four,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Panda Bear,
Tropical Tobacco,
Smog,
Tom Boy,
Khruangbin,
Drive Like Jehu,
Japan,
The Trojans,
Scratch Acid,
Michelle Simonal,
Man Parrish,
The Velvet Underground,
Dead Boys,
The Motions,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Warren Ellis,
Skarface,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Flesh Eaters,
Donny Hathaway,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Blancmange,
Delon & Dalcan,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wolf Eyes,
Darondo,
Joe Finger,
The American Breed,
Roy Ayers,
Minor Threat,
The Cramps,
In Retrospect,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.