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 Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Jacques Brel to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
T. Rex,
Shuggie Otis,
Girls At Our Best!,
kango's stein massive,
Black Flag,
Hasil Adkins,
The Offenders,
Section 25,
Joy Division,
Barry Ungar,
Nils Olav,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cure,
ABC,
Barbara Tucker,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Association,
Silicon Teens,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Joyce Sims,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Surgeon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Minnie Riperton,
The Pop Group,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Supertramp,
D'Angelo,
Flash Fearless,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
L. Decosne,
Lungfish,
Hashim,
Lightning Bolt,
Absolute Body Control,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
New Age Steppers,
Excepter,
Dead Boys,
The Modern Lovers,
The Skatalites,
Bush Tetras,
The Searchers,
The Saints,
Godley & Creme,
Drexciya,
KRS-One,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Walker Brothers,
Severed Heads,
Skaos,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
U.S. Maple,
Parry Music,
Patti Smith,
Donny Hathaway,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Dirtbombs,
Harmonia,
DJ Sneak,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.