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 Uruguay and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 organ 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 Circle Jerks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Porter Ricks,
Mantronix,
Jawbox,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yellowson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Junior Murvin,
Hasil Adkins,
Charles Mingus,
Monolake,
Saccharine Trust,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sex Pistols,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Derrick May,
John Foxx,
D'Angelo,
Spoonie Gee,
Cybotron,
Alison Limerick,
Bootsy Collins,
Brand Nubian,
Oneida,
Ultravox,
Ice-T,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Magazine,
Bizarre Inc.,
Donald Byrd,
Tom Boy,
ABC,
The Grass Roots,
Jacques Brel,
Ronan,
Pantytec,
Talk Talk,
Glenn Branca,
The Names,
The Zeros,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jerry's Kids,
Cymande,
Crash Course in Science,
Popol Vuh,
Bobby Womack,
Ken Boothe,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Minnie Riperton,
Supertramp,
Royal Trux,
OOIOO,
Stetsasonic,
Graham Central Station,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Au Pairs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cecil Taylor,
Judy Mowatt,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Flesh Eaters,
Yaz,
Banda Bassotti,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes.
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.