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 Belarus 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 harpsichord 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 Country Teasers to the disco 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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Funkadelic,
Wally Richardson,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Birthday Party,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mr. Review,
Hot Snakes,
Warsaw,
Byron Stingily,
Marmalade,
Section 25,
Oblivians,
Marshall Jefferson,
Robert Görl,
Harmonia,
Nas,
Flipper,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Sonics,
X-101,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Dead C,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
Blake Baxter,
Stetsasonic,
Howard Jones,
Blossom Toes,
The Motions,
U.S. Maple,
Basic Channel,
Crash Course in Science,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nik Kershaw,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Liliput,
Ten City,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Five Americans,
Sonic Youth,
Pole,
Curtis Mayfield,
Moss Icon,
Spoonie Gee,
The Standells,
Black Pus,
Television,
The Smoke,
Morten Harket,
Minor Threat,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Radio Birdman,
Infiniti,
Drexciya,
Swans,
Silicon Teens,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.