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 Paraguay and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry's Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Marine Girls,
Fatback Band,
Magma,
Aloha Tigers,
Metal Thangz,
Kerrie Biddell,
D'Angelo,
Arcadia,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Davy DMX,
Man Parrish,
Minutemen,
Mary Jane Girls,
Chris Corsano,
Slick Rick,
The Last Poets,
Smog,
Yusef Lateef,
Barrington Levy,
Ossler,
Aswad,
Lungfish,
Pharoah Sanders,
Iggy Pop,
Quantec,
The Pretty Things,
The Raincoats,
The Cowsills,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eurythmics,
Severed Heads,
Tubeway Army,
Todd Terry,
Pierre Henry,
Vainqueur,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ultimate Spinach,
Alison Limerick,
Malaria!,
Mo-Dettes,
Dawn Penn,
Brick,
Anakelly,
Roger Hodgson,
Unrelated Segments,
Heaven 17,
ABC,
Peter and Kerry,
Parry Music,
Swans,
Reuben Wilson,
Gang Green,
Nils Olav,
Grandmaster Flash,
CMW,
Scientists,
Electric Prunes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Silicon Teens,
Suicide,
X-101,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.