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 Jordan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 The Angels of Light to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scion,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Associates,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Anthony Braxton,
Banda Bassotti,
Boredoms,
Metal Thangz,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ludus,
The Mojo Men,
DJ Sneak,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ituana,
David Bowie,
Faust,
Crooked Eye,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Minnie Riperton,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Angels of Light,
Lyres,
the Fania All-Stars,
Donald Byrd,
Shuggie Otis,
Quantec,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The United States of America,
Skriet,
The Velvet Underground,
Popol Vuh,
Dark Day,
Boz Scaggs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Bananas,
Alison Limerick,
Malaria!,
Gang Green,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Max Romeo,
Echospace,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Seeds,
Minor Threat,
Desert Stars,
The Fire Engines,
Scientists,
Television,
T.S.O.L.,
The Doors,
Eurythmics,
Talk Talk,
Funky Four + One,
Nik Kershaw,
Crash Course in Science,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.