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 Bhutan and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare 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 Prince Buster to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Q and Not U,
Steve Hackett,
Andrew Hill,
Gong,
Mad Mike,
Masters at Work,
F. McDonald,
The Grass Roots,
Bobby Byrd,
Faust,
AZ,
Angry Samoans,
48th St. Collective,
the Sonics,
Swell Maps,
Popol Vuh,
Morten Harket,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Robert Görl,
Barrington Levy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tim Buckley,
Lou Christie,
The Martian,
Johnny Clarke,
Black Pus,
Kerri Chandler,
The Stooges,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fad Gadget,
Jawbox,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Flipper,
Marmalade,
Tom Boy,
Das Ding,
Alice Coltrane,
Rufus Thomas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sound Behaviour,
the Human League,
Pantaleimon,
10cc,
Outsiders,
A Certain Ratio,
The Trojans,
Sun Ra,
Joensuu 1685,
Blancmange,
Erykah Badu,
Colin Newman,
Dave Gahan,
Marvin Gaye,
Goldenarms,
Cluster,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Monochrome Set,
Negative Approach,
Joe Smooth,
Deepchord,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.