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 Brunei and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Lou Reed 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 Surgeon to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gang of Four,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Remains,
The New Christs,
The Electric Prunes,
Reuben Wilson,
Altered Images,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Kayak,
Man Eating Sloth,
Infiniti,
John Holt,
Camberwell Now,
Deepchord,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Andrew Hill,
F. McDonald,
China Crisis,
Amazonics,
Motorama,
Technova,
The Dirtbombs,
Camouflage,
Soft Cell,
X-Ray Spex,
Marshall Jefferson,
Black Moon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
T. Rex,
Cameo,
Chrome,
Max Romeo,
The Toasters,
Thee Headcoats,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Funkadelic,
Nico,
Ornette Coleman,
Bobby Womack,
Quantec,
Scan 7,
Warsaw,
Chris & Cosey,
the Sonics,
Lungfish,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Gun Club,
Terry Callier,
Q65,
Simply Red,
The Evens,
Desert Stars,
Ten City,
Inner City,
Dennis Brown,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.