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 Swaziland and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Donald Fagen 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lakeside record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
The Smoke,
The Doobie Brothers,
Harmonia,
The Walker Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
AZ,
The Detroit Cobras,
Terry Callier,
Ronan,
Ludus,
The Beau Brummels,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Bar-Kays,
Bill Near,
Yazoo,
The Knickerbockers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Oblivians,
The Modern Lovers,
Pantytec,
Echospace,
Q and Not U,
Gang Gang Dance,
Maurizio,
The Moody Blues,
The Cure,
Lou Reed,
Black Flag,
Au Pairs,
John Foxx,
David Bowie,
Donny Hathaway,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Junior Murvin,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Last Poets,
James White and The Blacks,
Can,
Mad Mike,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Vogues,
Vladislav Delay,
K-Klass,
The Fugs,
Los Fastidios,
Big Daddy Kane,
Inner City,
Stereo Dub,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mark Hollis,
Von Mondo,
Grandmaster Flash,
David Axelrod,
The Martian,
Porter Ricks,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.