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 Iceland and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Black Dice to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
The Beau Brummels,
David Bowie,
The Buckinghams,
Black Sheep,
Subhumans,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Germs,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Walker Brothers,
The Durutti Column,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Max Romeo,
Marvin Gaye,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Little Man,
Hot Snakes,
K-Klass,
Bronski Beat,
Rakim,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Flesh Eaters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pylon,
Barry Ungar,
Barbara Tucker,
The Doors,
Monks,
The Human League,
Cymande,
Lakeside,
The Sound,
Silicon Teens,
Man Parrish,
Hardrive,
Kenny Larkin,
Drexciya,
The Angels of Light,
The Raincoats,
Scion,
Amon Düül II,
Lee Hazlewood,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Underground Resistance,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ten City,
Joyce Sims,
Sun City Girls,
Dead Boys,
Depeche Mode,
The Star Department,
Cal Tjader,
Groovy Waters,
Schoolly D,
Lalann,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cecil Taylor,
Faraquet,
Sex Pistols,
F. McDonald,
T. Rex,
Brass Construction,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.