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 the UAE and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Nick Fraelich to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Deakin,
The Blues Magoos,
Harry Pussy,
Metal Thangz,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gap Band,
Eric Copeland,
Minnie Riperton,
Kool Moe Dee,
Harmonia,
Funkadelic,
The Fortunes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jandek,
Circle Jerks,
Ice-T,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Terrestrial Tones,
Deadbeat,
Man Parrish,
Pierre Henry,
Toni Rubio,
Magma,
Monolake,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joey Negro,
Pantaleimon,
Glenn Branca,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
New Order,
Guru Guru,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
A Certain Ratio,
Ronnie Foster,
Marcia Griffiths,
Derrick May,
The Seeds,
Tommy Roe,
David Axelrod,
Lindisfarne,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Interpol,
The Gories,
The Fuzztones,
Bang On A Can,
Sonic Youth,
The Toasters,
John Holt,
Jawbox,
James White and The Blacks,
Icehouse,
Junior Murvin,
Graham Central Station,
Steve Hackett,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Happenings,
Skaos,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Japan,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.