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 Micronesia 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Maurizio,
Kool Moe Dee,
Inner City,
Accadde A,
Royal Trux,
Bauhaus,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jeff Lynne,
Dual Sessions,
Lakeside,
The Vogues,
Kurtis Blow,
Bootsy Collins,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Mojo Men,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Germs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Chris Corsano,
K-Klass,
Terry Callier,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
DJ Style,
Glenn Branca,
Howard Jones,
Peter & Gordon,
Quando Quango,
Sound Behaviour,
Todd Rundgren,
Visage,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Cowsills,
DJ Sneak,
Los Fastidios,
The Wake,
Max Romeo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
DNA,
The Residents,
The Skatalites,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David Axelrod,
Funky Four + One,
Trumans Water,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Robert Görl,
Ludus,
Albert Ayler,
Make Up,
Heaven 17,
Spoonie Gee,
Bob Dylan,
Silicon Teens,
Nick Fraelich,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Underground Resistance,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Leonard Cohen,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.