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 China and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pharoah Sanders to the funk 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sly & The Family Stone,
David Bowie,
Ituana,
June Days,
John Lydon,
A Certain Ratio,
The Pretty Things,
Soulsonic Force,
The Velvet Underground,
Monolake,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Leonard Cohen,
Fela Kuti,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Smiths,
Amon Düül II,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Warren Ellis,
Harry Pussy,
Hot Snakes,
Mad Mike,
Yellowson,
Matthew Bourne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sällskapet,
Electric Prunes,
Sonic Youth,
Darondo,
Y Pants,
Soft Cell,
The Selecter,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Techniques,
The Seeds,
The Names,
Aswad,
The Blues Magoos,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Steve Hackett,
Donny Hathaway,
Guru Guru,
Jeff Mills,
Beasts of Bourbon,
John Cale,
David McCallum,
Grauzone,
Goldenarms,
Faraquet,
Audionom,
Black Sheep,
The Knickerbockers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Grass Roots,
Au Pairs,
World's Most,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
ABC,
Aural Exciters,
D'Angelo,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.