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 Djibouti and from Houston.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Gastr Del Sol to the techno 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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Evens,
The Cramps,
Quantec,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Dirtbombs,
Lalann,
Agitation Free,
Au Pairs,
Joe Finger,
Funky Four + One,
Isaac Hayes,
Little Man,
Cal Tjader,
Bluetip,
Mo-Dettes,
Ornette Coleman,
Sugar Minott,
Bill Wells,
The New Christs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Blake Baxter,
Darondo,
Kerri Chandler,
The Knickerbockers,
Althea and Donna,
Niagra,
John Foxx,
The Smoke,
Main Source,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barbara Tucker,
The Electric Prunes,
Essential Logic,
Frankie Knuckles,
Suburban Knight,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cybotron,
Unrelated Segments,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Five Americans,
Todd Rundgren,
Nico,
Nik Kershaw,
Kool Moe Dee,
Swans,
Man Parrish,
T. Rex,
Tropical Tobacco,
Idris Muhammad,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lindisfarne,
Derrick Morgan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Trojans,
Animal Collective,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wire,
Kerrie Biddell,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.