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 Paraguay and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Echospace to the rock 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Scion,
Trumans Water,
Television,
Bill Wells,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Toni Rubio,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Bananas,
Lungfish,
The Buckinghams,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Toasters,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kas Product,
Colin Newman,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Barry Ungar,
Ultravox,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Amazonics,
The Misunderstood,
Marmalade,
Ludus,
Wings,
The Kinks,
Rites of Spring,
Eric Copeland,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pole,
Quantec,
Jandek,
The Move,
Mandrill,
Monolake,
The Residents,
The Shadows of Knight,
Public Enemy,
Suicide,
Royal Trux,
Ronan,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Black Dice,
The Fortunes,
the Sonics,
Alison Limerick,
Radio Birdman,
This Heat,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pylon,
Eurythmics,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eden Ahbez,
Desert Stars,
Chris & Cosey,
Tubeway Army,
Rekid,
H. Thieme,
James White and The Blacks,
Bronski Beat,
Fatback Band,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.