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 Sri Lanka and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ornette Coleman 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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Ossler,
Technova,
Con Funk Shun,
Panda Bear,
New York Dolls,
These Immortal Souls,
cv313,
E-Dancer,
the Human League,
Boredoms,
Spoonie Gee,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Saccharine Trust,
Pagans,
Cheater Slicks,
Pere Ubu,
Tim Buckley,
Ornette Coleman,
Sällskapet,
The Birthday Party,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Brand Nubian,
Sarah Menescal,
Country Teasers,
Cymande,
AZ,
Eric Dolphy,
The Gun Club,
Qualms,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Blackbyrds,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Easy Going,
Clear Light,
Mr. Review,
Janne Schatter,
Kerri Chandler,
JFA,
Warren Ellis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Average White Band,
Motorama,
The Electric Prunes,
Tomorrow,
The Cramps,
Crash Course in Science,
Nik Kershaw,
Sight & Sound,
Camouflage,
Godley & Creme,
Goldenarms,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pylon,
Los Fastidios,
One Last Wish,
Throbbing Gristle,
DJ Sneak,
Mandrill,
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.