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 Djibouti and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Grandmaster Flash to the funk 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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Pagans,
The Five Americans,
Isaac Hayes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Thompson Twins,
The Gun Club,
The Music Machine,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Dead C,
Rod Modell,
Radio Birdman,
Patti Smith,
Thee Headcoats,
Wally Richardson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Wake,
Tubeway Army,
Reagan Youth,
Lindisfarne,
Skaos,
Peter and Kerry,
Donny Hathaway,
The Busters,
Eric B and Rakim,
Toni Rubio,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Invisible,
Marine Girls,
Johnny Clarke,
Fela Kuti,
Essential Logic,
Rufus Thomas,
Pussy Galore,
Eden Ahbez,
Wire,
Ultravox,
The J.B.'s,
Flamin' Groovies,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gerry Rafferty,
Funky Four + One,
The Evens,
Grauzone,
Main Source,
U.S. Maple,
The Real Kids,
Soul II Soul,
Circle Jerks,
John Lydon,
June Days,
The Star Department,
ABBA,
The Offenders,
Man Parrish,
Jacob Miller,
Marmalade,
LL Cool J,
Radiopuhelimet,
AZ,
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.