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 Costa Rica 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Eden Ahbez to the rap 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Index,
OOIOO,
Flamin' Groovies,
Neil Young,
Skaos,
Curtis Mayfield,
Whodini,
Cybotron,
David Axelrod,
Cameo,
Black Sheep,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fad Gadget,
Scott Walker,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Tubeway Army,
Charles Mingus,
Derrick Morgan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Throbbing Gristle,
Trumans Water,
Fluxion,
Quando Quango,
Moby Grape,
Crispian St. Peters,
A Certain Ratio,
Marcia Griffiths,
MDC,
Marshall Jefferson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fugs,
Niagra,
Rod Modell,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Roger Hodgson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hardrive,
Sight & Sound,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lakeside,
Loose Ends,
T. Rex,
Eric Copeland,
Los Fastidios,
Juan Atkins,
Wolf Eyes,
The Blues Magoos,
The Slackers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Misunderstood,
Lindisfarne,
The Moleskins,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Iggy Pop,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bad Manners,
Donald Byrd,
Agent Orange,
This Heat,
Lungfish,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.