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 Cape Verde and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Alice Coltrane to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fatback Band,
Sugar Minott,
DNA,
Lucky Dragons,
Ralphi Rosario,
Erykah Badu,
Nik Kershaw,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rosa Yemen,
Idris Muhammad,
Marcia Griffiths,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Livin' Joy,
Bill Wells,
the Slits,
The Count Five,
Gang of Four,
Pylon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Toni Rubio,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Whodini,
Zapp,
Bang On A Can,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arcadia,
UT,
Ohio Players,
Scan 7,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang Green,
10cc,
Au Pairs,
Easy Going,
Fat Boys,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Prince Buster,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Severed Heads,
Nico,
The Offenders,
Harpers Bizarre,
Silicon Teens,
The Doors,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Maurizio,
Bronski Beat,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
AZ,
The Index,
Panda Bear,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sandy B,
Pere Ubu,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mr. Review,
The Dave Clark Five,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.