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 Italy and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord 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 Quadrant to the jazz 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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Colin Newman,
Henry Cow,
Kenny Larkin,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wolf Eyes,
Ice-T,
John Cale,
Khruangbin,
The Mummies,
Kerrie Biddell,
Toni Rubio,
Traffic Nightmare,
Juan Atkins,
One Last Wish,
Alison Limerick,
Skaos,
Nirvana,
Funky Four + One,
Camberwell Now,
Sight & Sound,
Freddie Wadling,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
John Holt,
Godley & Creme,
Yusef Lateef,
Chris Corsano,
Darondo,
Quando Quango,
Cameo,
Barclay James Harvest,
Japan,
Das Ding,
T. Rex,
Minor Threat,
Terry Callier,
The Motions,
Thompson Twins,
New York Dolls,
Graham Central Station,
Outsiders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nico,
Fat Boys,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Schoolly D,
The Litter,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pagans,
Scion,
The Cowsills,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ossler,
U.S. Maple,
Amazonics,
Bootsy Collins,
Panda Bear,
John Lydon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Make Up,
Yaz,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.