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 Ukraine and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Flesh Eaters to the rap 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
The Count Five,
Warsaw,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Monochrome Set,
Cheater Slicks,
The Red Krayola,
Faust,
Nik Kershaw,
Blancmange,
Sunsets and Hearts,
D'Angelo,
The Invisible,
Aswad,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Slits,
Roger Hodgson,
the Germs,
Ronan,
Big Daddy Kane,
Infiniti,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sound Behaviour,
Saccharine Trust,
Joe Smooth,
The Sonics,
The Vogues,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lyres,
The Moleskins,
Technova,
The Gladiators,
Ponytail,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cal Tjader,
Rapeman,
Reagan Youth,
Gang of Four,
Barry Ungar,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deadbeat,
Hashim,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Spoonie Gee,
Au Pairs,
Funky Four + One,
The Doors,
Gang Starr,
Index,
John Foxx,
Kenny Larkin,
Adolescents,
Avey Tare,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Y Pants,
Aural Exciters,
MDC,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Juan Atkins,
Clear Light,
Ice-T,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.