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 Belgium and from New York.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Paris.
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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Kenny Larkin to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Hoover,
L. Decosne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Soft Cell,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Moebius,
The Vogues,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Black Sheep,
Intrusion,
David McCallum,
Quando Quango,
Eve St. Jones,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joy Division,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Excepter,
Rapeman,
Patti Smith,
Lindisfarne,
One Last Wish,
Junior Murvin,
The Dead C,
Harry Pussy,
Lakeside,
Tres Demented,
Brick,
Reuben Wilson,
Pylon,
The Mojo Men,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kerri Chandler,
Yusef Lateef,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Joensuu 1685,
The Angels of Light,
The Zeros,
Thompson Twins,
The Offenders,
Deepchord,
Amazonics,
The Evens,
U.S. Maple,
Peter and Kerry,
The Black Dice,
The Techniques,
Half Japanese,
Mandrill,
Toni Rubio,
The Residents,
Make Up,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bang On A Can,
the Bar-Kays,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ultravox,
Lou Christie,
Blossom Toes,
Absolute Body Control,
Sound Behaviour,
R.M.O.,
Spandau Ballet,
Ronnie Foster,
Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin.
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.