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 Ecuador and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe 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 Altered Images to the grunge 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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Henry Cow,
Magazine,
Amazonics,
Barrington Levy,
The Move,
Warsaw,
Anakelly,
The Young Rascals,
The Dave Clark Five,
Isaac Hayes,
June of 44,
Agent Orange,
Fat Boys,
Duran Duran,
B.T. Express,
Gang Starr,
Bob Dylan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
CMW,
Frankie Knuckles,
Urselle,
Robert Wyatt,
The Cowsills,
Prince Buster,
Bobby Sherman,
Jawbox,
Max Romeo,
Ice-T,
Tears for Fears,
Lucky Dragons,
Hoover,
Matthew Halsall,
Fluxion,
Echospace,
Accadde A,
Bad Manners,
Minnie Riperton,
the Association,
Circle Jerks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Pop Group,
Monolake,
Franke,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gang of Four,
ABBA,
Pole,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sex Pistols,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
LL Cool J,
The Star Department,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Brothers Johnson,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.