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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba 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 Zapp to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Crime,
Crispian St. Peters,
JFA,
Kas Product,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Robert Görl,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sister Nancy,
Connie Case,
The Raincoats,
Pagans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Quantec,
Eve St. Jones,
Barrington Levy,
Gang Green,
Duran Duran,
Rotary Connection,
June Days,
the Swans,
The Last Poets,
Unrelated Segments,
Ohio Players,
Flash Fearless,
Eric Dolphy,
The Offenders,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tom Boy,
Outsiders,
The Doobie Brothers,
Blake Baxter,
UT,
Quando Quango,
Tomorrow,
Althea and Donna,
B.T. Express,
Kool Moe Dee,
Blossom Toes,
Heaven 17,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Clear Light,
The New Christs,
Terry Callier,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Whodini,
Hot Snakes,
Shuggie Otis,
Gang of Four,
Nick Fraelich,
Schoolly D,
Ronnie Foster,
Fat Boys,
Glenn Branca,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Grass Roots,
Max Romeo,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.