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 Suriname and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the rock 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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Suicide,
Hoover,
B.T. Express,
Soul Sonic Force,
Judy Mowatt,
Kas Product,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Letta Mbulu,
Mary Jane Girls,
Dawn Penn,
Jacob Miller,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kerri Chandler,
Swell Maps,
The Real Kids,
Eli Mardock,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
X-Ray Spex,
Basic Channel,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ronnie Foster,
Clear Light,
Liliput,
Minutemen,
Livin' Joy,
Sun City Girls,
The Shadows of Knight,
Davy DMX,
Aural Exciters,
Eurythmics,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bluetip,
The Slackers,
Guru Guru,
F. McDonald,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Soft Cell,
John Coltrane,
Joe Smooth,
Subhumans,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Busters,
Zapp,
Skarface,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
cv313,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Roy Ayers,
Bauhaus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kurtis Blow,
Niagra,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bob Dylan,
Hasil Adkins,
New Age Steppers,
Interpol,
Deepchord,
U.S. Maple,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.