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 Mauritius and from Bremen.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Grass Roots to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Tres Demented,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Desert Stars,
Johnny Clarke,
DJ Sneak,
Joensuu 1685,
Quantec,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Maleditus Sound,
Nick Fraelich,
The Music Machine,
Todd Terry,
Graham Central Station,
Janne Schatter,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Mummies,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Black Pus,
Masters at Work,
Agent Orange,
Erykah Badu,
Flash Fearless,
Pulsallama,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Q65,
Black Flag,
Grey Daturas,
The Vogues,
Amazonics,
Dorothy Ashby,
Can,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Toni Rubio,
Angry Samoans,
Slave,
Ronnie Foster,
the Germs,
The Move,
Howard Jones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Guru Guru,
The Shadows of Knight,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tropical Tobacco,
Severed Heads,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Minny Pops,
Sugar Minott,
JFA,
Rakim,
Anthony Braxton,
The Five Americans,
Aswad,
The Dirtbombs,
Bluetip,
Gong,
48th St. Collective,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.