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 Senegal and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Neu! to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Outsiders,
Flamin' Groovies,
Patti Smith,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gang Green,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
James White and The Blacks,
Stereo Dub,
Bobby Womack,
Pharoah Sanders,
Goldenarms,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wings,
Audionom,
Television Personalities,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cheater Slicks,
D'Angelo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ice-T,
Charles Mingus,
Godley & Creme,
The Neon Judgement,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Swans,
The Wake,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cybotron,
The Selecter,
The Names,
Donald Byrd,
The New Christs,
Chrome,
Scrapy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Matthew Halsall,
Eric B and Rakim,
Vladislav Delay,
Kenny Larkin,
Al Stewart,
This Heat,
Scott Walker,
The Monks,
Theoretical Girls,
The Golliwogs,
Fat Boys,
Brothers Johnson,
the Human League,
Tres Demented,
PIL,
Sparks,
Japan,
Roxette,
Saccharine Trust,
Connie Case,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.