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 Turkmenistan 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Blossom Toes to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
David Bowie,
Flipper,
Eurythmics,
FM Einheit,
The Fugs,
Ohio Players,
The Trojans,
The Electric Prunes,
La Düsseldorf,
Michelle Simonal,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Buzzcocks,
Zapp,
Idris Muhammad,
Silicon Teens,
Rakim,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ituana,
Judy Mowatt,
ABBA,
Oneida,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Doors,
The Seeds,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Country Teasers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Aural Exciters,
Joy Division,
Kenny Larkin,
The Leaves,
Eddi Front,
the Bar-Kays,
Nils Olav,
Arab on Radar,
Carl Craig,
T. Rex,
Kerri Chandler,
kango's stein massive,
Barbara Tucker,
The American Breed,
Archie Shepp,
Dead Boys,
Lyres,
New Order,
Vainqueur,
The Moody Blues,
Reuben Wilson,
Brand Nubian,
Soft Machine,
Soft Cell,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Music Machine,
Yaz,
The Dave Clark Five,
Guru Guru,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Radio Birdman,
the Fania All-Stars,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.