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 Guatemala and from Shanghai.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Michael McDonald 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fall. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Dave Gahan,
Tres Demented,
The Angels of Light,
Roy Ayers,
Agent Orange,
Joensuu 1685,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ice-T,
Peter & Gordon,
Fela Kuti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Robert Wyatt,
Slick Rick,
Black Moon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ponytail,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bluetip,
John Holt,
Neil Young,
Terrestrial Tones,
Groovy Waters,
The American Breed,
Marc Almond,
Rekid,
Lou Christie,
Infiniti,
Stetsasonic,
Joe Smooth,
Organ,
Sexual Harrassment,
Howard Jones,
Absolute Body Control,
Barclay James Harvest,
Crash Course in Science,
Bad Manners,
Pole,
Minor Threat,
One Last Wish,
Mr. Review,
the Slits,
Kenny Larkin,
Warsaw,
Judy Mowatt,
The Walker Brothers,
Neu!,
Ossler,
Mission of Burma,
Brass Construction,
These Immortal Souls,
Lucky Dragons,
Blancmange,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Camberwell Now,
Roxy Music,
Archie Shepp,
Oblivians,
The Fire Engines,
the Bar-Kays,
Mandrill,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.