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 Chad and from New York.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ 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 Tubeway Army to the rap 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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter and Kerry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Silicon Teens,
Angry Samoans,
Theoretical Girls,
Icehouse,
John Lydon,
Boogie Down Productions,
Joy Division,
Liliput,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Carl Craig,
Fatback Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Cramps,
Dual Sessions,
Ponytail,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Outsiders,
Joe Finger,
The Human League,
Aswad,
Sun Ra,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fire Engines,
Terrestrial Tones,
Drexciya,
Cheater Slicks,
Bobby Byrd,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Don Cherry,
Talk Talk,
Cameo,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Angels of Light,
Trumans Water,
New Order,
Erykah Badu,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jeff Mills,
Matthew Bourne,
Easy Going,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lee Hazlewood,
Arab on Radar,
The Searchers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nirvana,
New York Dolls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
48th St. Collective,
Mr. Review,
Juan Atkins,
Sun City Girls,
The Misunderstood,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Deepchord,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kenny Larkin,
The Dirtbombs,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.