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 Belarus and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 mellotron 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 Count Five to the punk 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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Aloha Tigers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
UT,
Jacob Miller,
Boz Scaggs,
Cybotron,
David McCallum,
Johnny Clarke,
Faust,
Angry Samoans,
In Retrospect,
La Düsseldorf,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kerrie Biddell,
Prince Buster,
World's Most,
Althea and Donna,
Stereo Dub,
Sam Rivers,
Bobby Sherman,
Ohio Players,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Litter,
James White and The Blacks,
The Pretty Things,
The Cowsills,
Toni Rubio,
Make Up,
Harpers Bizarre,
Adolescents,
Hasil Adkins,
The Seeds,
Flipper,
Lou Reed,
Section 25,
Wings,
Crash Course in Science,
Roger Hodgson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Neil Young,
The Sound,
Little Man,
Audionom,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ornette Coleman,
The Index,
Drexciya,
The Vogues,
Massinfluence,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Electric Prunes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pagans,
The Dead C,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dorothy Ashby,
Idris Muhammad,
Lyres,
Soulsonic Force,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.