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 Pakistan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Althea and Donna to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fear,
Freddie Wadling,
Lungfish,
June Days,
Ralphi Rosario,
Accadde A,
Outsiders,
Deepchord,
The Velvet Underground,
Deakin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cybotron,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mars,
Scratch Acid,
The Busters,
DJ Style,
Vladislav Delay,
The Red Krayola,
E-Dancer,
R.M.O.,
Fugazi,
The Fugs,
John Holt,
Hasil Adkins,
The Offenders,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Slits,
AZ,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mandrill,
Electric Prunes,
The Litter,
X-Ray Spex,
The Pop Group,
Maleditus Sound,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Masters at Work,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Beau Brummels,
Mad Mike,
Thompson Twins,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Young Rascals,
Sonny Sharrock,
Juan Atkins,
Gerry Rafferty,
JFA,
Agent Orange,
Scan 7,
New York Dolls,
Desert Stars,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rakim,
Andrew Hill,
Yazoo,
Kas Product,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.