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 Zimbabwe and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 U.S. Maple 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
The Skatalites,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eric Copeland,
June Days,
Pantaleimon,
Oblivians,
Cal Tjader,
Dawn Penn,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Electric Prunes,
Cluster,
Das Ding,
Scratch Acid,
Skarface,
The Saints,
E-Dancer,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Max Romeo,
10cc,
Delon & Dalcan,
Hasil Adkins,
Surgeon,
The Blackbyrds,
Joyce Sims,
The Barracudas,
Yusef Lateef,
Glambeats Corp.,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Zeros,
Big Daddy Kane,
Minor Threat,
Grauzone,
X-102,
Ronnie Foster,
Intrusion,
The Birthday Party,
U.S. Maple,
This Heat,
Loose Ends,
The Tremeloes,
Freddie Wadling,
The Doors,
The Sonics,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wally Richardson,
Rosa Yemen,
Cameo,
Little Man,
Radiohead,
Joe Smooth,
Basic Channel,
the Association,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Inner City,
Bootsy Collins,
The Toasters,
Bobby Womack,
Eurythmics,
Saccharine Trust,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.