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 Czech Republic and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Camouflage to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Popol Vuh,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Crash Course in Science,
Gang Green,
Dennis Brown,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Severed Heads,
Spoonie Gee,
48th St. Collective,
Matthew Bourne,
Bill Wells,
Andrew Hill,
Average White Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Cal Tjader,
Carl Craig,
Avey Tare,
Easy Going,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Association,
Basic Channel,
Japan,
The Slits,
Ten City,
Panda Bear,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Fania All-Stars,
a-ha,
Slave,
Al Stewart,
Shoche,
Lucky Dragons,
Charles Mingus,
The Residents,
Lower 48,
Dawn Penn,
Amon Düül,
Hot Snakes,
The Vogues,
Newcleus,
Ultravox,
Marvin Gaye,
The Grass Roots,
The J.B.'s,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Monolake,
Desert Stars,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Reuben Wilson,
Skaos,
Shuggie Otis,
Mantronix,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Peter & Gordon,
Flash Fearless,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.