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 Mongolia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 linndrum 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
F. McDonald,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dorothy Ashby,
Amazonics,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Trumans Water,
Shuggie Otis,
the Human League,
Bill Near,
The Invisible,
The Slits,
John Holt,
Scrapy,
Gabor Szabo,
Maleditus Sound,
Steve Hackett,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Golliwogs,
The Neon Judgement,
The Selecter,
Quadrant,
Essential Logic,
Fat Boys,
MDC,
Lucky Dragons,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nirvana,
Duran Duran,
the Slits,
Public Enemy,
Aswad,
The Residents,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
cv313,
Supertramp,
Scientists,
The Young Rascals,
U.S. Maple,
Rosa Yemen,
Scan 7,
Pantaleimon,
Sister Nancy,
Robert Hood,
Bluetip,
Organ,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Remains,
Ken Boothe,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Morten Harket,
Cecil Taylor,
Neu!,
Warren Ellis,
Silicon Teens,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alphaville,
Heaven 17,
Traffic Nightmare,
Suburban Knight,
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.