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 Serbia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 linndrum 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the disco 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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Sam Rivers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
DJ Sneak,
The Dead C,
Don Cherry,
Kayak,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Fortunes,
ABBA,
Rakim,
Leonard Cohen,
Zapp,
Erykah Badu,
The Count Five,
Mission of Burma,
Bang On A Can,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Litter,
Aloha Tigers,
Barry Ungar,
Skaos,
Shuggie Otis,
Technova,
the Bar-Kays,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Index,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Sonics,
Pantytec,
Chris Corsano,
Funkadelic,
Qualms,
Heaven 17,
Mr. Review,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Index,
Piero Umiliani,
Fear,
The Pop Group,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soul II Soul,
Mandrill,
Fatback Band,
The Mummies,
Gang Green,
Judy Mowatt,
New Age Steppers,
Wally Richardson,
Stockholm Monsters,
ABC,
The Monochrome Set,
Swans,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Harmonia,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Tremeloes,
Moss Icon,
Scientists,
Hardrive,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.