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 Bulgaria and from Tokyo.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
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 Brass Construction to the techno 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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Ronan,
Janne Schatter,
Funkadelic,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Supertramp,
The Mummies,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
In Retrospect,
Lyres,
Jacob Miller,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Warsaw,
Lakeside,
The Dead C,
Young Marble Giants,
Model 500,
Soft Cell,
Patti Smith,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Duran Duran,
The Monks,
Anakelly,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Monolake,
The Standells,
Marine Girls,
T.S.O.L.,
Funky Four + One,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Altered Images,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Fortunes,
The Toasters,
Ten City,
K-Klass,
Agent Orange,
Roxy Music,
Scrapy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
La Düsseldorf,
The Techniques,
Audionom,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Wake,
Laurel Aitken,
Monks,
MC5,
Cybotron,
New Order,
Kurtis Blow,
Eric B and Rakim,
Quando Quango,
T. Rex,
Pylon,
Frankie Knuckles,
Con Funk Shun,
The Offenders,
Peter and Kerry,
Arthur Verocai,
Spandau Ballet,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.