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 Papua New Guinea and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 guitar 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 Patti Smith to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Moody Blues,
Nik Kershaw,
Intrusion,
Skriet,
The Cure,
Harpers Bizarre,
Al Stewart,
Buzzcocks,
Godley & Creme,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Susan Cadogan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marc Almond,
Rosa Yemen,
The Motions,
Gang of Four,
LL Cool J,
X-102,
Albert Ayler,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Germs,
The Durutti Column,
Sugar Minott,
Skaos,
Radiohead,
MDC,
Excepter,
Slick Rick,
Eve St. Jones,
Dave Gahan,
The Dirtbombs,
John Coltrane,
The Toasters,
Hardrive,
Agent Orange,
The Happenings,
Babytalk,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Blues Magoos,
Pylon,
Neil Young,
Alison Limerick,
Organ,
Donald Byrd,
Black Pus,
Agitation Free,
Rekid,
Cecil Taylor,
Tears for Fears,
Jawbox,
Ludus,
Reuben Wilson,
Fad Gadget,
Skarface,
48th St. Collective,
Kaleidoscope,
AZ,
Derrick Morgan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.