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 Qatar and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
The Moleskins,
the Bar-Kays,
Infiniti,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Fortunes,
Minutemen,
Tom Boy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Siglo XX,
Jandek,
The Walker Brothers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Boredoms,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Loose Ends,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hot Snakes,
The Motions,
DNA,
CMW,
Jimmy McGriff,
Desert Stars,
the Soft Cell,
Stiv Bators,
Anthony Braxton,
Morten Harket,
John Coltrane,
Eve St. Jones,
The Black Dice,
Minor Threat,
Metal Thangz,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bluetip,
Shoche,
Gang Green,
Accadde A,
Second Layer,
Rotary Connection,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lindisfarne,
Jawbox,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dennis Brown,
John Cale,
Moebius,
Roxette,
Cybotron,
Jeff Lynne,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
T. Rex,
One Last Wish,
Sällskapet,
Japan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Smog,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lou Christie,
B.T. Express,
JFA,
Pussy Galore,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.