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 Algeria and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Blackbyrds to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All X-101 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 grime 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Sam Rivers,
the Soft Cell,
Guru Guru,
Anakelly,
Nils Olav,
Visage,
Fela Kuti,
Bauhaus,
Iggy Pop,
Kaleidoscope,
Sun Ra,
Public Enemy,
Porter Ricks,
Ultravox,
The Names,
Livin' Joy,
Crime,
Masters at Work,
Alton Ellis,
Spoonie Gee,
Rekid,
Yazoo,
Deepchord,
Bill Near,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tubeway Army,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Minnie Riperton,
Drexciya,
Andrew Hill,
Pulsallama,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nirvana,
The Doors,
The Seeds,
Television,
Thee Headcoats,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Golliwogs,
Johnny Clarke,
Roger Hodgson,
Grey Daturas,
Hoover,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ponytail,
Rosa Yemen,
Letta Mbulu,
Suburban Knight,
The Grass Roots,
The Zeros,
Lou Christie,
DJ Style,
Eric Copeland,
Donny Hathaway,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lalann,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.