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 Korea North and from Manchester.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 marimba 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 D'Angelo to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Magma,
Eurythmics,
Mantronix,
David McCallum,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Thee Headcoats,
The Cowsills,
Cheater Slicks,
X-Ray Spex,
Buzzcocks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fear,
Babytalk,
Zero Boys,
Model 500,
Moss Icon,
Trumans Water,
Sällskapet,
The Buckinghams,
The Names,
The Saints,
Lakeside,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Groovy Waters,
Metal Thangz,
Pantytec,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ronnie Foster,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Modern Lovers,
Cal Tjader,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fire Engines,
Basic Channel,
The Invisible,
The Cramps,
Tres Demented,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Andrew Hill,
The Monks,
Khruangbin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Searchers,
Thompson Twins,
The Blues Magoos,
Brick,
Althea and Donna,
the Bar-Kays,
R.M.O.,
Fad Gadget,
Aswad,
Kerri Chandler,
Jesper Dahlback,
Donald Byrd,
The Fugs,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.