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 Greece and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Sixth Finger,
Sarah Menescal,
The Knickerbockers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Brand Nubian,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Echospace,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marshall Jefferson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Names,
Duran Duran,
Mo-Dettes,
Toni Rubio,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobby Womack,
Arab on Radar,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bizarre Inc.,
Delon & Dalcan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Vladislav Delay,
Tomorrow,
Eve St. Jones,
John Lydon,
Yusef Lateef,
Sexual Harrassment,
Godley & Creme,
Minnie Riperton,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Boz Scaggs,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ken Boothe,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Zeros,
Royal Trux,
The Associates,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ice-T,
The Angels of Light,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rufus Thomas,
Lou Christie,
Peter and Kerry,
Khruangbin,
Man Parrish,
DJ Sneak,
the Fania All-Stars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quantec,
Audionom,
Ohio Players,
E-Dancer,
Crash Course in Science,
Wolf Eyes,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.