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 Brazil and from Calgary.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Porter Ricks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Outsiders,
ABC,
Frankie Knuckles,
Warsaw,
The Martian,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Cale,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grey Daturas,
Delta 5,
The Fire Engines,
Albert Ayler,
The Raincoats,
The Trojans,
Sun Ra,
48th St. Collective,
the Human League,
Jacques Brel,
Erykah Badu,
the Bar-Kays,
Monks,
The Tremeloes,
Sister Nancy,
Joy Division,
These Immortal Souls,
Zero Boys,
Grauzone,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Shoche,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cowsills,
The Modern Lovers,
The Count Five,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The American Breed,
Absolute Body Control,
The Electric Prunes,
Ludus,
the Association,
Gong,
Cybotron,
X-Ray Spex,
Fat Boys,
Babytalk,
Throbbing Gristle,
La Düsseldorf,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fugazi,
Yazoo,
Duran Duran,
Trumans Water,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Los Fastidios,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cecil Taylor,
The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set.
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.