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 Andorra and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
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 Slave to the jazz 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Kurtis Blow,
Fatback Band,
The Monks,
Metal Thangz,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Pop Group,
Maurizio,
Absolute Body Control,
The American Breed,
Prince Buster,
The Offenders,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Patti Smith,
Groovy Waters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Television Personalities,
Stereo Dub,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Gories,
The Trojans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Circle Jerks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Joe Finger,
Pantytec,
Minor Threat,
Pagans,
Easy Going,
K-Klass,
Byron Stingily,
Heaven 17,
Sun Ra,
Sonny Sharrock,
Peter & Gordon,
Tres Demented,
Cecil Taylor,
Buzzcocks,
Alison Limerick,
Dawn Penn,
The Residents,
Q and Not U,
Desert Stars,
Mr. Review,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scientists,
Stetsasonic,
The Young Rascals,
Symarip,
Moebius,
Letta Mbulu,
JFA,
Dead Boys,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Birthday Party,
Thompson Twins,
Lungfish,
Minutemen,
Wasted Youth,
Babytalk,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.