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 Swaziland and from London.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Angry Samoans to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Aswad,
The Gun Club,
Lalo Schifrin,
Stetsasonic,
Surgeon,
Pussy Galore,
Alice Coltrane,
Terry Callier,
Eddi Front,
Deepchord,
Juan Atkins,
Dark Day,
Joy Division,
Aaron Thompson,
Bob Dylan,
The Misunderstood,
Qualms,
Make Up,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tommy Roe,
Josef K,
The Human League,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pole,
Supertramp,
Harry Pussy,
The Fuzztones,
The Busters,
Soft Cell,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Scan 7,
the Association,
Freddie Wadling,
Fear,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Smiths,
Ken Boothe,
Spoonie Gee,
Blancmange,
John Cale,
Camouflage,
Matthew Bourne,
Kenny Larkin,
Darondo,
Agitation Free,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wally Richardson,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobby Sherman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ludus,
X-Ray Spex,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Popol Vuh,
Guru Guru,
Hot Snakes,
Altered Images,
Eden Ahbez,
Little Man,
Peter & Gordon,
Parry Music,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.