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 East Timor and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Alison Limerick to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
These Immortal Souls,
Charles Mingus,
Donald Byrd,
The Mojo Men,
Jacques Brel,
Nick Fraelich,
Can,
The Barracudas,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Flag,
Scan 7,
Iggy Pop,
Thompson Twins,
U.S. Maple,
Swell Maps,
Marc Almond,
OOIOO,
Hoover,
Funkadelic,
Rapeman,
Grey Daturas,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
E-Dancer,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Leaves,
Joensuu 1685,
Sex Pistols,
Maleditus Sound,
The Blues Magoos,
The Last Poets,
Bill Wells,
The Buckinghams,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Neil Young,
Banda Bassotti,
The Tremeloes,
The Selecter,
Bootsy Collins,
Erykah Badu,
The Gories,
Moebius,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Inner City,
LL Cool J,
Ronnie Foster,
Crash Course in Science,
Intrusion,
Livin' Joy,
Godley & Creme,
The Mighty Diamonds,
John Foxx,
The Kinks,
Q and Not U,
Minutemen,
Rosa Yemen,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Scott Walker,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.