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 Angola 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Matthew Halsall to the techno 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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
David Axelrod,
Suburban Knight,
Dark Day,
Morten Harket,
Jeff Mills,
Adolescents,
Porter Ricks,
Robert Wyatt,
The Blues Magoos,
Minnie Riperton,
Q and Not U,
Steve Hackett,
Davy DMX,
the Sonics,
Blossom Toes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tres Demented,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Fugs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Iggy Pop,
Bad Manners,
The Misunderstood,
Cheater Slicks,
Scott Walker,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Crash Course in Science,
Althea and Donna,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kerrie Biddell,
Babytalk,
Terrestrial Tones,
Section 25,
R.M.O.,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rufus Thomas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
La Düsseldorf,
Surgeon,
Crispian St. Peters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Goldenarms,
Metal Thangz,
John Coltrane,
Nation of Ulysses,
Severed Heads,
Interpol,
Icehouse,
Pole,
The Knickerbockers,
The Smiths,
Cybotron,
Parry Music,
Susan Cadogan,
Scientists,
The Birthday Party,
Joensuu 1685,
Oblivians,
Unwound,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.