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 Cairo.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer 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 The Flesh Eaters to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Brand Nubian,
Gabor Szabo,
Pylon,
Eurythmics,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sun City Girls,
Main Source,
Electric Prunes,
Albert Ayler,
Quando Quango,
Arcadia,
China Crisis,
Bobby Byrd,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tom Boy,
Rotary Connection,
Panda Bear,
Theoretical Girls,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Mojo Men,
The Busters,
It's A Beautiful Day,
UT,
Aural Exciters,
X-Ray Spex,
Gong,
Junior Murvin,
kango's stein massive,
Cybotron,
Public Enemy,
Althea and Donna,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Dirtbombs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Piero Umiliani,
Sister Nancy,
The Tremeloes,
Skarface,
Slick Rick,
Hardrive,
La Düsseldorf,
Rekid,
Skriet,
Anakelly,
Quadrant,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
X-102,
The Moody Blues,
Johnny Osbourne,
Moebius,
Can,
Q and Not U,
Graham Central Station,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Drive Like Jehu,
Amon Düül,
Wire,
Crime,
Avey Tare,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.