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 Ghana and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Joe Smooth,
Ludus,
Lee Hazlewood,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Doors,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pussy Galore,
Joey Negro,
John Holt,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Accadde A,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hardrive,
Thompson Twins,
Arcadia,
Cecil Taylor,
The Names,
Vladislav Delay,
Loose Ends,
Black Moon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nick Fraelich,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Neu!,
Bobby Byrd,
Electric Prunes,
The Young Rascals,
JFA,
Mandrill,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Quadrant,
Slick Rick,
Nik Kershaw,
Rapeman,
Jandek,
Qualms,
Man Parrish,
New Age Steppers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Max Romeo,
The Searchers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Leaves,
Bobby Womack,
Prince Buster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rites of Spring,
Pantytec,
Pierre Henry,
Theoretical Girls,
Eric Dolphy,
Hoover,
Make Up,
Wally Richardson,
Livin' Joy,
Pole,
Colin Newman,
Lyres,
Lower 48,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.