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 Georgia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Piero Umiliani 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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Black Bananas,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Fortunes,
The Gladiators,
The Mojo Men,
Roger Hodgson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cameo,
The Cure,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ituana,
The Buckinghams,
Agent Orange,
Clear Light,
The Offenders,
Niagra,
Animal Collective,
The Fuzztones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
a-ha,
Joey Negro,
Bobby Byrd,
Brothers Johnson,
Can,
Massinfluence,
La Düsseldorf,
Altered Images,
The Victims,
PIL,
Bauhaus,
Archie Shepp,
New Order,
EPMD,
Stetsasonic,
Susan Cadogan,
Matthew Bourne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Malaria!,
Sun Ra,
Cybotron,
Fatback Band,
Amon Düül,
Letta Mbulu,
Unrelated Segments,
Avey Tare,
Joe Smooth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lyres,
The Young Rascals,
Traffic Nightmare,
Maleditus Sound,
MC5,
The Blackbyrds,
Absolute Body Control,
Sex Pistols,
Ultra Naté,
Soft Machine,
The Monochrome Set,
Rod Modell,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wasted Youth,
Japan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.