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 Dominican Republic and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Todd Terry to the funk 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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Donny Hathaway,
Fat Boys,
Al Stewart,
Audionom,
Jeff Lynne,
Suburban Knight,
Scan 7,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Maurizio,
10cc,
La Düsseldorf,
Faust,
Toni Rubio,
Oblivians,
the Bar-Kays,
The Motions,
Funky Four + One,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mad Mike,
Pantytec,
The Cure,
Grauzone,
The Alarm Clocks,
Aaron Thompson,
Outsiders,
Juan Atkins,
Idris Muhammad,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Newcleus,
the Sonics,
Scratch Acid,
The Red Krayola,
Intrusion,
Desert Stars,
Nils Olav,
Circle Jerks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Piero Umiliani,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Busters,
The Blackbyrds,
Sly & The Family Stone,
China Crisis,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cybotron,
The United States of America,
F. McDonald,
Avey Tare,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cal Tjader,
D'Angelo,
Sound Behaviour,
Bob Dylan,
The Wake,
Electric Prunes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Roxy Music,
Trumans Water,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.