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 Panama and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin 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 Main Source to the grime 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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Offenders,
Patti Smith,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sugar Minott,
Alphaville,
Crooked Eye,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eurythmics,
Tres Demented,
Juan Atkins,
Simply Red,
Ultra Naté,
Warren Ellis,
Liliput,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Wally Richardson,
Rites of Spring,
Jacques Brel,
Fela Kuti,
The Fuzztones,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Godley & Creme,
Sonic Youth,
Banda Bassotti,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
T. Rex,
Porter Ricks,
Joyce Sims,
X-Ray Spex,
Heaven 17,
Skaos,
Nas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Procol Harum,
Franke,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Coltrane,
Kerri Chandler,
Todd Rundgren,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bill Wells,
Moby Grape,
UT,
These Immortal Souls,
10cc,
Babytalk,
Grauzone,
Slave,
The Cure,
Bronski Beat,
Ituana,
The Last Poets,
Joe Smooth,
Los Fastidios,
Au Pairs,
The Vogues,
H. Thieme,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.