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 Benin and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 rhodes 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the punk 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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Agent Orange,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tubeway Army,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Robert Wyatt,
Quadrant,
Pantaleimon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fortunes,
Roger Hodgson,
The Stooges,
Anthony Braxton,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mo-Dettes,
The Five Americans,
Tears for Fears,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Liliput,
In Retrospect,
Yazoo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Japan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jandek,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kenny Larkin,
Scion,
Leonard Cohen,
The New Christs,
Black Bananas,
Sixth Finger,
Prince Buster,
Gang Starr,
Barrington Levy,
Brass Construction,
LL Cool J,
Bob Dylan,
Radiohead,
Eli Mardock,
Funky Four + One,
Sight & Sound,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scan 7,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
DJ Style,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gang of Four,
Kerri Chandler,
Technova,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ituana,
Rites of Spring,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.