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 Spain and from Philadelphia.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Rufus Thomas to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Babytalk,
Sun City Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
Nation of Ulysses,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tom Boy,
Al Stewart,
Donald Byrd,
Chris Corsano,
The Slackers,
Terry Callier,
Idris Muhammad,
Mad Mike,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rekid,
Delta 5,
John Lydon,
Boogie Down Productions,
UT,
Talk Talk,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Groovy Waters,
Joe Finger,
The Pretty Things,
Amazonics,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cal Tjader,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jandek,
Carl Craig,
Youth Brigade,
Visage,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Oblivians,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rufus Thomas,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gang Starr,
The Cramps,
Barrington Levy,
Little Man,
U.S. Maple,
T. Rex,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Star Department,
Outsiders,
Ice-T,
Ludus,
The Blackbyrds,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gerry Rafferty,
Index,
Graham Central Station,
Bobby Byrd,
Pagans,
the Swans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Motions,
The Golliwogs,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.