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 Mexico and from Bologna.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 synthesizer 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the rock 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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
The Fire Engines,
The Mojo Men,
Television,
Drive Like Jehu,
Schoolly D,
the Germs,
Smog,
Peter and Kerry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nirvana,
The J.B.'s,
Buzzcocks,
Donald Byrd,
Sexual Harrassment,
Moby Grape,
10cc,
World's Most,
Joy Division,
Mandrill,
Kerri Chandler,
The Toasters,
Donny Hathaway,
Rapeman,
Ohio Players,
Warren Ellis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Neil Young,
The Selecter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Sound,
The Durutti Column,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Andrew Hill,
The Moody Blues,
Amon Düül,
The Mummies,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
DJ Sneak,
AZ,
The Young Rascals,
Oneida,
Susan Cadogan,
Porter Ricks,
Angry Samoans,
The Gladiators,
The Cramps,
Hoover,
Arthur Verocai,
Tears for Fears,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lalann,
Sparks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Silicon Teens,
Cluster,
Bootsy Collins,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jawbox,
Aaron Thompson,
Organ,
Inner City,
Tubeway Army,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.