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 Ethiopia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 808 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 The Knickerbockers to the grime 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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Groovy Waters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
the Fania All-Stars,
Magazine,
Sex Pistols,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Techniques,
Easy Going,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Susan Cadogan,
Maurizio,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Crime,
K-Klass,
Gerry Rafferty,
ABC,
Junior Murvin,
Wolf Eyes,
John Cale,
The Move,
Cybotron,
Jeff Lynne,
Franke,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Searchers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mandrill,
Harpers Bizarre,
Radiohead,
Nick Fraelich,
Moss Icon,
Tubeway Army,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Moleskins,
The Cure,
Joe Finger,
Dual Sessions,
Man Parrish,
MDC,
Rhythm & Sound,
Minutemen,
Quando Quango,
Thee Headcoats,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wire,
The Blues Magoos,
The Martian,
Dark Day,
Ludus,
DJ Style,
Erykah Badu,
Danielle Patucci,
Scan 7,
Aloha Tigers,
Gabor Szabo,
Sixth Finger,
Yaz,
Index,
Man Eating Sloth,
Wasted Youth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.