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 Vietnam and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord 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 Aaron Thompson to the rap 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Archie Shepp,
Boz Scaggs,
Audionom,
Stiv Bators,
Rapeman,
Barbara Tucker,
Curtis Mayfield,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Niagra,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Funkadelic,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Toni Rubio,
Crispian St. Peters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
8 Eyed Spy,
Joe Finger,
Tom Boy,
Blancmange,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Barrington Levy,
Whodini,
The Beau Brummels,
U.S. Maple,
Monks,
Wolf Eyes,
Minny Pops,
John Coltrane,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mantronix,
The Human League,
Swans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Deadbeat,
Black Moon,
Von Mondo,
Wire,
Nas,
The Tremeloes,
Bobby Byrd,
Country Teasers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Angry Samoans,
The Smiths,
Franke,
Reagan Youth,
Jacob Miller,
Stereo Dub,
Man Parrish,
Kurtis Blow,
Jeff Mills,
Funky Four + One,
David Axelrod,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
kango's stein massive,
Mo-Dettes,
The Fortunes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.