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 Serbia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sound to the punk 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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Soulsonic Force,
Altered Images,
Masters at Work,
The Star Department,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Todd Rundgren,
Country Teasers,
Section 25,
Marvin Gaye,
Sugar Minott,
Mo-Dettes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Heaven 17,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kayak,
Scientists,
Junior Murvin,
Stiv Bators,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Monochrome Set,
Main Source,
Zero Boys,
48th St. Collective,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gichy Dan,
The Techniques,
Procol Harum,
Barrington Levy,
Blancmange,
Cluster,
Dead Boys,
Oblivians,
Curtis Mayfield,
Monolake,
Shuggie Otis,
Unrelated Segments,
Surgeon,
Derrick May,
Spandau Ballet,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Glambeats Corp.,
Black Moon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Cramps,
Bill Near,
Delon & Dalcan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joey Negro,
ABBA,
Echospace,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lucky Dragons,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Roy Ayers,
Rekid,
MC5,
The Moleskins,
Fatback Band,
the Soft Cell,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.