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 Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
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 808 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
The Victims,
Rapeman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Angels of Light,
Sam Rivers,
The Doors,
The Red Krayola,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Barrington Levy,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Beau Brummels,
The Monochrome Set,
Lightning Bolt,
Be Bop Deluxe,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bobby Womack,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Human League,
Moby Grape,
Deadbeat,
The Birthday Party,
Delta 5,
The Skatalites,
Piero Umiliani,
The Black Dice,
Sound Behaviour,
Mandrill,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Franke,
Anthony Braxton,
The Doobie Brothers,
Royal Trux,
Nils Olav,
Max Romeo,
Japan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dual Sessions,
Black Moon,
Zapp,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Davy DMX,
Livin' Joy,
Graham Central Station,
Oblivians,
cv313,
The Knickerbockers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Theoretical Girls,
Thee Headcoats,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dark Day,
Rotary Connection,
The Move,
Alphaville,
Average White Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
T.S.O.L.,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lakeside,
Alton Ellis,
Charles Mingus,
Lee Hazlewood,
Clear Light,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.