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 Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Gap Band to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Sam Rivers,
Porter Ricks,
FM Einheit,
Roy Ayers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Barrington Levy,
Zapp,
Skaos,
Los Fastidios,
Derrick May,
Freddie Wadling,
La Düsseldorf,
Animal Collective,
Wings,
Deepchord,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eric Copeland,
Joe Finger,
Massinfluence,
D'Angelo,
Cheater Slicks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sixth Finger,
Y Pants,
Maleditus Sound,
Motorama,
The Doors,
Mission of Burma,
Cal Tjader,
The Gladiators,
Kool Moe Dee,
Black Sheep,
Isaac Hayes,
Rites of Spring,
Tom Boy,
The Durutti Column,
Kayak,
Severed Heads,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gang Green,
Buzzcocks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Second Layer,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Monks,
Cameo,
Fluxion,
UT,
Circle Jerks,
Johnny Clarke,
Ituana,
Index,
Kas Product,
Josef K,
Absolute Body Control,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Bar-Kays,
Spoonie Gee,
Stereo Dub,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.