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 Mali and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer 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 Crash Course in Science to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
New Order,
Pylon,
Brothers Johnson,
Fatback Band,
Neu!,
Tres Demented,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dennis Brown,
EPMD,
The American Breed,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Babytalk,
The Birthday Party,
D'Angelo,
Ohio Players,
Curtis Mayfield,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Talk Talk,
The New Christs,
Porter Ricks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ronan,
The Remains,
OOIOO,
Alice Coltrane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eurythmics,
Bob Dylan,
Whodini,
Gong,
Gabor Szabo,
The Black Dice,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Brass Construction,
The Beau Brummels,
Bronski Beat,
Peter & Gordon,
Brick,
Lyres,
Cameo,
This Heat,
Excepter,
The Sound,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Harmonia,
The Trojans,
Rites of Spring,
Eddi Front,
Arcadia,
Sun City Girls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Procol Harum,
Masters at Work,
Gichy Dan,
John Lydon,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.