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 Mumbai.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Eddi Front to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike 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?
The Sonics,
ABC,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Residents,
John Holt,
The Litter,
The Blackbyrds,
Marc Almond,
Lalo Schifrin,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Isaac Hayes,
Bush Tetras,
The Leaves,
Tom Boy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Dead C,
Saccharine Trust,
The Associates,
Yaz,
Throbbing Gristle,
Hashim,
LL Cool J,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camouflage,
Nils Olav,
Colin Newman,
Graham Central Station,
Shuggie Otis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bronski Beat,
Masters at Work,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Association,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Alton Ellis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Divine Comedy,
The Mummies,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rhythm & Sound,
Iggy Pop,
Althea and Donna,
Joensuu 1685,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Terry Callier,
a-ha,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Kurtis Blow,
The Zeros,
Second Layer,
Lyres,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kerri Chandler,
The Slackers,
Jawbox,
The Fall,
Soul II Soul,
Tears for Fears,
Magma,
Roy Ayers,
Laurel Aitken,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.