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 United States and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 synthesizer 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 Eric Copeland to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Adolescents,
Mad Mike,
Oblivians,
Vainqueur,
Soft Machine,
The Associates,
The Modern Lovers,
Robert Wyatt,
Iggy Pop,
Slave,
The Smiths,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Janne Schatter,
Reuben Wilson,
Technova,
Deadbeat,
Thee Headcoats,
Quando Quango,
Pussy Galore,
Sixth Finger,
Public Enemy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sex Pistols,
Leonard Cohen,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scrapy,
Panda Bear,
Gichy Dan,
Gang of Four,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Swans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jacob Miller,
Boz Scaggs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stiv Bators,
Essential Logic,
Ponytail,
Guru Guru,
Harpers Bizarre,
LL Cool J,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Tears for Fears,
Jeff Mills,
Howard Jones,
The Gun Club,
Country Teasers,
DJ Style,
Amon Düül II,
Glenn Branca,
Bauhaus,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fluxion,
the Human League,
Cymande,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Terry Callier,
Mars,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.