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 Germany and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the rock 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Bush Tetras,
Stiv Bators,
The Alarm Clocks,
Minor Threat,
Brand Nubian,
The Black Dice,
the Normal,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Altered Images,
The Raincoats,
Television Personalities,
Rakim,
Ken Boothe,
Q and Not U,
The Blackbyrds,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nils Olav,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Index,
The Star Department,
Ten City,
Gichy Dan,
The Doors,
Hasil Adkins,
The Fall,
Gastr Del Sol,
AZ,
Crime,
X-102,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Zeros,
Cecil Taylor,
48th St. Collective,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kayak,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Cramps,
Mars,
Easy Going,
Brothers Johnson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Spoonie Gee,
These Immortal Souls,
Quantec,
Aswad,
June of 44,
Main Source,
Supertramp,
Gang Starr,
Kerrie Biddell,
David McCallum,
Lower 48,
Audionom,
Eurythmics,
Sandy B,
Ultra Naté,
Gabor Szabo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.