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 Italy and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 The Wake to the jazz 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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Durutti Column,
Minnie Riperton,
Pantaleimon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crooked Eye,
Bluetip,
Mo-Dettes,
James White and The Blacks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sex Pistols,
Soft Cell,
Tomorrow,
Organ,
Fatback Band,
Metal Thangz,
Al Stewart,
The Skatalites,
The Knickerbockers,
Tears for Fears,
The Sonics,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scan 7,
Tim Buckley,
Scrapy,
Underground Resistance,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Liliput,
The Saints,
Eddi Front,
Quando Quango,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jawbox,
Nirvana,
Pierre Henry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Judy Mowatt,
The Stooges,
Agitation Free,
the Germs,
Donald Byrd,
Gerry Rafferty,
Buzzcocks,
The Toasters,
Adolescents,
Gabor Szabo,
The Angels of Light,
The Black Dice,
Mark Hollis,
Faust,
Thompson Twins,
Skriet,
Angry Samoans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barrington Levy,
the Normal,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rakim,
Mantronix,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.