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 Spokane.
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 Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Man Parrish,
Harry Pussy,
Mandrill,
The Dead C,
Popol Vuh,
Agent Orange,
Erasure,
Icehouse,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nils Olav,
Sight & Sound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Victims,
Rekid,
Kaleidoscope,
U.S. Maple,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Guru Guru,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jacob Miller,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eddi Front,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soft Machine,
The Monks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lindisfarne,
EPMD,
Johnny Clarke,
Circle Jerks,
T. Rex,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Sällskapet,
Ronan,
The Leaves,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Slits,
The Saints,
Banda Bassotti,
Glenn Branca,
Scratch Acid,
Oneida,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Soft Cell,
Gerry Rafferty,
Graham Central Station,
8 Eyed Spy,
Grauzone,
Ludus,
The Invisible,
Shuggie Otis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Real Kids,
Charles Mingus,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.