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 Portugal and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Five Americans,
Anthony Braxton,
Robert Wyatt,
Toni Rubio,
The Dave Clark Five,
Aural Exciters,
Carl Craig,
Man Parrish,
Max Romeo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Joe Smooth,
Morten Harket,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Moby Grape,
Chris & Cosey,
Lower 48,
Heaven 17,
Spoonie Gee,
Severed Heads,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Funkadelic,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Avey Tare,
Eric B and Rakim,
Harry Pussy,
The Black Dice,
Theoretical Girls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Letta Mbulu,
The Stooges,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Buzzcocks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mantronix,
Agent Orange,
The Dirtbombs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cluster,
Eric Copeland,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nick Fraelich,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crooked Eye,
Angry Samoans,
Second Layer,
The Trojans,
Main Source,
Althea and Donna,
Animal Collective,
Magazine,
the Human League,
Radiohead,
Pantytec,
Sex Pistols,
The Slits,
cv313,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Icehouse,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.