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 Mali and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Aural Exciters,
Tears for Fears,
FM Einheit,
Minutemen,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soulsonic Force,
Max Romeo,
Chrome,
The Toasters,
Jacques Brel,
Bob Dylan,
Robert Hood,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jerry's Kids,
the Association,
The Selecter,
Scan 7,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ultra Naté,
Gang Green,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Walker Brothers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Smiths,
Fad Gadget,
Silicon Teens,
Man Eating Sloth,
New York Dolls,
Joensuu 1685,
Severed Heads,
The Seeds,
Bobby Sherman,
Can,
Jeff Lynne,
Bluetip,
Schoolly D,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Maleditus Sound,
X-102,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kurtis Blow,
Blossom Toes,
Tommy Roe,
Bronski Beat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Flash Fearless,
Prince Buster,
Loose Ends,
Funky Four + One,
In Retrospect,
The Music Machine,
Ken Boothe,
Eric B and Rakim,
World's Most,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Erasure,
The Gun Club,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.