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 Indonesia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Lagos and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Eric Copeland to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Sällskapet,
Black Moon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Duran Duran,
The Saints,
DJ Style,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobby Byrd,
Big Daddy Kane,
Davy DMX,
Radio Birdman,
Derrick Morgan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Godley & Creme,
JFA,
Johnny Osbourne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Wyatt,
Barry Ungar,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Tremeloes,
The Sound,
Harmonia,
Soul II Soul,
Crispian St. Peters,
New Order,
The Skatalites,
Colin Newman,
Amon Düül,
Moby Grape,
Derrick May,
Anthony Braxton,
Agitation Free,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
48th St. Collective,
Cheater Slicks,
The Offenders,
Junior Murvin,
Judy Mowatt,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Smoke,
Circle Jerks,
Blossom Toes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Aural Exciters,
Terry Callier,
Fela Kuti,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rakim,
Audionom,
The Red Krayola,
Suburban Knight,
The Vogues,
The Fire Engines,
Ituana,
Todd Rundgren,
Dark Day,
Girls At Our Best!,
Popol Vuh,
10cc,
Matthew Halsall,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.