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 Gambia and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin 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 Fania All-Stars to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Anthony Braxton,
Isaac Hayes,
Aural Exciters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radiopuhelimet,
Japan,
Parry Music,
Symarip,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eric Dolphy,
The Real Kids,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Chris Corsano,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Intrusion,
Moebius,
Amazonics,
Pussy Galore,
Eve St. Jones,
Sandy B,
The Gories,
Kenny Larkin,
Wasted Youth,
Harry Pussy,
the Human League,
Joe Smooth,
Stereo Dub,
The Angels of Light,
Joyce Sims,
Ronnie Foster,
Mad Mike,
Sound Behaviour,
Althea and Donna,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Qualms,
The Blues Magoos,
Rekid,
David Axelrod,
Bootsy Collins,
John Lydon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Man Parrish,
the Germs,
Heaven 17,
Bill Near,
U.S. Maple,
The Searchers,
Fatback Band,
Ken Boothe,
Ossler,
The Residents,
The Beau Brummels,
Dave Gahan,
Hoover,
Television Personalities,
The Smoke,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mo-Dettes,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.