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 United Kingdom and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin 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 Animal Collective to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
The Fortunes,
Pantaleimon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minutemen,
Simply Red,
Sight & Sound,
Main Source,
Desert Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scientists,
Harmonia,
The Misunderstood,
Barrington Levy,
The Techniques,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Quadrant,
The Fugs,
Kaleidoscope,
the Association,
Bill Wells,
Rhythm & Sound,
Alton Ellis,
Model 500,
Little Man,
Avey Tare,
Barbara Tucker,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Flag,
The Busters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jerry's Kids,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Alice Coltrane,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Raincoats,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ralphi Rosario,
Barclay James Harvest,
Smog,
X-Ray Spex,
The Real Kids,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang of Four,
Flipper,
The Tremeloes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Delon & Dalcan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Average White Band,
Sixth Finger,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sonics,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Zeros,
Trumans Water,
Kerrie Biddell,
Peter and Kerry,
Jawbox,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.