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 Rwanda and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Letta Mbulu to the funk 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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Radiohead,
Sister Nancy,
Godley & Creme,
the Soft Cell,
Michelle Simonal,
Junior Murvin,
Deepchord,
B.T. Express,
Stereo Dub,
Rapeman,
Anakelly,
Adolescents,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joyce Sims,
Franke,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lebanon Hanover,
Brand Nubian,
The Red Krayola,
Althea and Donna,
the Bar-Kays,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Slits,
These Immortal Souls,
Fat Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Siglo XX,
Can,
Pussy Galore,
Pierre Henry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
CMW,
the Fania All-Stars,
Whodini,
Bobby Byrd,
Mark Hollis,
Derrick Morgan,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fuzztones,
Y Pants,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Martian,
Henry Cow,
Accadde A,
Magma,
Cameo,
Visage,
Soulsonic Force,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Quantec,
Mo-Dettes,
Donny Hathaway,
Sexual Harrassment,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Gladiators,
Lalann,
Fear,
Traffic Nightmare,
FM Einheit,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.