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 Azerbaijan and from Mexico City.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Frankie Knuckles to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dennis Brown,
Althea and Donna,
John Holt,
Heaven 17,
The Barracudas,
Nirvana,
Guru Guru,
Zero Boys,
Marine Girls,
The Fire Engines,
The Fugs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Skriet,
The Slackers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arcadia,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cure,
The Toasters,
Icehouse,
Lalann,
John Coltrane,
The Gap Band,
Archie Shepp,
Grey Daturas,
Oblivians,
The Smiths,
Gang of Four,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Dirtbombs,
The Moleskins,
The Electric Prunes,
The Pretty Things,
Half Japanese,
Gregory Isaacs,
Easy Going,
Donald Byrd,
Neil Young,
Eric Copeland,
Rod Modell,
The Cosmic Jokers,
10cc,
Reuben Wilson,
Camberwell Now,
Tommy Roe,
The Red Krayola,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Magazine,
Dead Boys,
Ultra Naté,
Organ,
Section 25,
The Moody Blues,
Nas,
Man Parrish,
Alton Ellis,
Mission of Burma,
Chris Corsano,
Gang Starr,
Sandy B,
Vladislav Delay,
Todd Rundgren,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.