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 Suriname and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Andrew Hill to the rock 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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Mission of Burma,
Johnny Osbourne,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Buckinghams,
The Residents,
a-ha,
Funky Four + One,
Spandau Ballet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lightning Bolt,
Ten City,
David Bowie,
The Happenings,
Moby Grape,
Porter Ricks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Y Pants,
Theoretical Girls,
the Germs,
Joyce Sims,
Gichy Dan,
Section 25,
Deepchord,
The Dead C,
Angry Samoans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Connie Case,
Isaac Hayes,
Q65,
Judy Mowatt,
Reuben Wilson,
Scratch Acid,
Barrington Levy,
Bauhaus,
Arab on Radar,
Fad Gadget,
The Cramps,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lyres,
Bill Wells,
Anakelly,
Negative Approach,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fear,
Pantaleimon,
Andrew Hill,
Nils Olav,
Don Cherry,
The Dave Clark Five,
Average White Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Kinks,
The Gap Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lalo Schifrin,
DJ Style,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sparks,
The Cure,
Television Personalities,
Marvin Gaye,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.