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 Brazil and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 10cc to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Peter & Gordon. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Pet Shop Boys,
OOIOO,
Monks,
The Victims,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ultimate Spinach,
kango's stein massive,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Move,
Wally Richardson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Delon & Dalcan,
Spandau Ballet,
The Residents,
Sarah Menescal,
Wolf Eyes,
Stetsasonic,
Black Pus,
Pagans,
The Cramps,
Rhythm & Sound,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Depeche Mode,
Easy Going,
Tommy Roe,
F. McDonald,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pere Ubu,
Ronan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mr. Review,
The Monochrome Set,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jacques Brel,
Japan,
Main Source,
Smog,
The Divine Comedy,
Althea and Donna,
John Lydon,
Roy Ayers,
Freddie Wadling,
Yellowson,
The Wake,
Idris Muhammad,
Bobby Byrd,
Joyce Sims,
Black Moon,
Lyres,
Bobby Womack,
La Düsseldorf,
Dave Gahan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The American Breed,
The Smiths,
Fad Gadget,
The Human League,
Fear,
Reuben Wilson,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.