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 Morocco and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Mary Jane Girls 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Man Parrish,
Donald Byrd,
Scott Walker,
Drexciya,
The Walker Brothers,
Sarah Menescal,
Howard Jones,
Cameo,
Black Pus,
The Dead C,
Gabor Szabo,
Peter & Gordon,
Bootsy Collins,
Basic Channel,
10cc,
Massinfluence,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mark Hollis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Sound,
The Searchers,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ronnie Foster,
Zapp,
Ken Boothe,
Gang Green,
The Cure,
Todd Terry,
A Certain Ratio,
Liliput,
Matthew Halsall,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Popol Vuh,
Pantytec,
Banda Bassotti,
New Order,
Ponytail,
Mission of Burma,
Grauzone,
Chris Corsano,
Spandau Ballet,
Colin Newman,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Cale,
Hoover,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Gladiators,
Heaven 17,
Mo-Dettes,
kango's stein massive,
The Vogues,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.