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 Kenya and from Seoul.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Pharoah Sanders to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Duran Duran,
Swell Maps,
the Swans,
Rufus Thomas,
Wolf Eyes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Standells,
Neil Young,
Freddie Wadling,
Arthur Verocai,
Fatback Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Nick Fraelich,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
X-Ray Spex,
Organ,
Cheater Slicks,
Traffic Nightmare,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bootsy Collins,
Aswad,
The Beau Brummels,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nik Kershaw,
Ten City,
Kurtis Blow,
The Modern Lovers,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Techniques,
The Associates,
The Dirtbombs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
New Order,
Derrick May,
Brothers Johnson,
Eurythmics,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jeff Mills,
Dave Gahan,
Sandy B,
Supertramp,
Hashim,
Metal Thangz,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Amazonics,
Shuggie Otis,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Pop Group,
Stiv Bators,
Harry Pussy,
CMW,
Man Parrish,
Desert Stars,
New Age Steppers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Neon Judgement,
Ornette Coleman,
Saccharine Trust,
The Human League,
E-Dancer,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.