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 Slovakia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 The Golliwogs to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Judy Mowatt,
Fatback Band,
Erasure,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
World's Most,
Country Teasers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Smog,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Swell Maps,
Rufus Thomas,
the Human League,
Alton Ellis,
Flash Fearless,
The New Christs,
Hot Snakes,
Black Sheep,
Section 25,
The Pop Group,
Index,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lou Christie,
The Gun Club,
Bad Manners,
Nik Kershaw,
Rites of Spring,
The Gap Band,
Animal Collective,
June of 44,
Drexciya,
Skarface,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Coltrane,
Scrapy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sarah Menescal,
Crispian St. Peters,
Deadbeat,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Golliwogs,
T.S.O.L.,
Surgeon,
Ludus,
Severed Heads,
Metal Thangz,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kool Moe Dee,
Don Cherry,
The Cramps,
Malaria!,
Desert Stars,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fugazi,
The Victims,
Symarip,
The Slits,
Bobby Byrd,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fortunes,
Max Romeo,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.