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 Cambodia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Nik Kershaw,
New York Dolls,
Massinfluence,
Mary Jane Girls,
Blossom Toes,
Sparks,
Desert Stars,
The Blackbyrds,
ABC,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jerry's Kids,
Moebius,
Goldenarms,
Joey Negro,
The J.B.'s,
Marvin Gaye,
Ten City,
Fela Kuti,
Bobby Womack,
The Toasters,
the Slits,
Terry Callier,
Eyeless In Gaza,
AZ,
The Happenings,
Icehouse,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fortunes,
The Music Machine,
Wire,
Livin' Joy,
The Slackers,
Inner City,
the Association,
Jacob Miller,
Jimmy McGriff,
Big Daddy Kane,
Howard Jones,
Ultimate Spinach,
Anthony Braxton,
Steve Hackett,
Jeff Mills,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Second Layer,
Tom Boy,
Jeff Lynne,
Soft Cell,
Brick,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Easy Going,
World's Most,
The Sound,
Erasure,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tears for Fears,
Joensuu 1685,
Kerri Chandler,
Man Parrish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.