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 Somalia and from Philadelphia.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe 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 David Bowie to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Lalo Schifrin,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eve St. Jones,
Graham Central Station,
Carl Craig,
Severed Heads,
PIL,
Deakin,
Nirvana,
Ten City,
Sugar Minott,
Von Mondo,
Amon Düül II,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tres Demented,
Newcleus,
Mission of Burma,
The Tremeloes,
Todd Terry,
Connie Case,
Kayak,
Quantec,
Popol Vuh,
The Cowsills,
Crispy Ambulance,
Qualms,
Erasure,
Hasil Adkins,
Guru Guru,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Smiths,
Bobby Byrd,
Sandy B,
The Vogues,
Brothers Johnson,
Stetsasonic,
Wire,
Bush Tetras,
Radiohead,
Quando Quango,
The Dirtbombs,
Eli Mardock,
Outsiders,
Dennis Brown,
Jeff Lynne,
Soul II Soul,
Babytalk,
Wolf Eyes,
Gang Green,
Funky Four + One,
Pantytec,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lakeside,
Lyres,
The Neon Judgement,
E-Dancer,
Bob Dylan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gang Starr,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.