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 Bahrain and from Lille.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Infiniti to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Khruangbin,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Sheep,
Big Daddy Kane,
Deepchord,
Crooked Eye,
Fat Boys,
The Human League,
Dual Sessions,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mission of Burma,
Susan Cadogan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Aloha Tigers,
Angry Samoans,
Ossler,
Yaz,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Vogues,
Siglo XX,
Liliput,
Inner City,
The Moleskins,
DJ Style,
Tropical Tobacco,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gong,
Gichy Dan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Josef K,
Jerry's Kids,
the Soft Cell,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Litter,
Bluetip,
Cymande,
Chris & Cosey,
Andrew Hill,
The Fugs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
This Heat,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sun City Girls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joyce Sims,
Minny Pops,
Newcleus,
Excepter,
Graham Central Station,
Minnie Riperton,
Mars,
Fear,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Five Americans,
the Sonics,
Con Funk Shun,
Severed Heads,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eric Copeland,
Joe Finger,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.