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 Latvia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer 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 The Cowsills to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Martian,
The Dead C,
Moby Grape,
Brothers Johnson,
Man Parrish,
Andrew Hill,
Roy Ayers,
Camberwell Now,
The Trojans,
Darondo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Drexciya,
Scratch Acid,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Skriet,
Maurizio,
Slave,
Roger Hodgson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Danielle Patucci,
Amazonics,
T. Rex,
Ice-T,
Skarface,
Judy Mowatt,
Girls At Our Best!,
Erykah Badu,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Anakelly,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Tremeloes,
Whodini,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cybotron,
Sun Ra,
Rod Modell,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Qualms,
The Fire Engines,
Tropical Tobacco,
Electric Prunes,
Silicon Teens,
Funkadelic,
Barbara Tucker,
Joe Finger,
Terry Callier,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Robert Hood,
Au Pairs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Thompson Twins,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Suburban Knight,
The Associates,
Avey Tare,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Visage,
The Neon Judgement,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.