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 Andorra and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Altered Images to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Kurtis Blow,
Barry Ungar,
Dark Day,
Dennis Brown,
Sandy B,
The Cramps,
The Fuzztones,
Qualms,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Funkadelic,
Neil Young,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Judy Mowatt,
The American Breed,
Pere Ubu,
Model 500,
Alton Ellis,
The Move,
Alphaville,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pole,
New Age Steppers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Vogues,
the Fania All-Stars,
Au Pairs,
X-101,
Aloha Tigers,
the Bar-Kays,
Theoretical Girls,
Slick Rick,
Johnny Clarke,
The Grass Roots,
Cymande,
Arcadia,
Ice-T,
June of 44,
Malaria!,
Second Layer,
FM Einheit,
Spandau Ballet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Maurizio,
Marvin Gaye,
The Real Kids,
The Index,
Aswad,
Harmonia,
This Heat,
Mo-Dettes,
MDC,
Fluxion,
Alice Coltrane,
The Gories,
Inner City,
Eurythmics,
John Holt,
Franke,
Gang Gang Dance,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.