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 Cambodia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Smoke to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Godley & Creme,
Dark Day,
Deadbeat,
48th St. Collective,
Barrington Levy,
KRS-One,
Pagans,
Theoretical Girls,
The Count Five,
Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Vladislav Delay,
Tres Demented,
Neil Young,
Arab on Radar,
kango's stein massive,
AZ,
Aural Exciters,
Young Marble Giants,
The Star Department,
Model 500,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gang Green,
Outsiders,
The Index,
La Düsseldorf,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scan 7,
Franke,
Alton Ellis,
Siglo XX,
Reagan Youth,
Surgeon,
Heaven 17,
Altered Images,
In Retrospect,
Bobby Byrd,
Marshall Jefferson,
Livin' Joy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Chrome,
The Motions,
Popol Vuh,
June Days,
Jerry's Kids,
Bronski Beat,
Ronan,
The Moody Blues,
Brand Nubian,
Jacques Brel,
Trumans Water,
The Skatalites,
Minutemen,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Chris Corsano,
Sister Nancy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Misunderstood,
Nick Fraelich,
Schoolly D,
Tubeway Army,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.