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 Nicaragua and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manchester.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Pole,
Dead Boys,
Eric Copeland,
Black Sheep,
Warsaw,
Donald Byrd,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Qualms,
Quando Quango,
Peter and Kerry,
Dark Day,
Lungfish,
Jawbox,
Radio Birdman,
Blancmange,
The Angels of Light,
Reagan Youth,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cal Tjader,
Nas,
Susan Cadogan,
Brothers Johnson,
Bang On A Can,
the Swans,
Ultravox,
The Birthday Party,
Babytalk,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott Heron,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Echospace,
Grandmaster Flash,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Khruangbin,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Donny Hathaway,
Jacques Brel,
the Slits,
Arthur Verocai,
Scrapy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Neil Young,
Tres Demented,
Isaac Hayes,
Pantytec,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nico,
Max Romeo,
Nick Fraelich,
Marc Almond,
Al Stewart,
Heaven 17,
B.T. Express,
Junior Murvin,
Wally Richardson,
Erasure,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Monolake,
Supertramp,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.