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 Mauritania and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 American Breed to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Anakelly,
A Certain Ratio,
Janne Schatter,
Massinfluence,
Lalann,
The Misunderstood,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Names,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Monochrome Set,
Davy DMX,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Sonics,
Alphaville,
ABC,
Main Source,
X-101,
ABBA,
Peter & Gordon,
Lakeside,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Skatalites,
Prince Buster,
Amon Düül II,
D'Angelo,
Rotary Connection,
X-Ray Spex,
Carl Craig,
The Evens,
Moebius,
Bootsy Collins,
Marvin Gaye,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobby Byrd,
Hasil Adkins,
The Knickerbockers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joe Finger,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Theoretical Girls,
Amon Düül,
Mo-Dettes,
The Divine Comedy,
The Grass Roots,
June of 44,
Harmonia,
Piero Umiliani,
The Dirtbombs,
The Zeros,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Groovy Waters,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Oblivians,
Stetsasonic,
Bang On A Can,
8 Eyed Spy,
Archie Shepp,
The Five Americans,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.