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 Peru and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
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 Suicide to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kayak,
Kas Product,
La Düsseldorf,
Television,
Pharoah Sanders,
Con Funk Shun,
Charles Mingus,
Niagra,
Bluetip,
PIL,
Das Ding,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gabor Szabo,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cameo,
Sister Nancy,
The Barracudas,
Public Image Ltd.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Althea and Donna,
The Raincoats,
The Modern Lovers,
Jacques Brel,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
James White and The Blacks,
Hardrive,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Busters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Residents,
Audionom,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joe Smooth,
T.S.O.L.,
H. Thieme,
Matthew Bourne,
The Dead C,
Maleditus Sound,
Glenn Branca,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Mummies,
Nik Kershaw,
B.T. Express,
Flash Fearless,
Ultravox,
Fluxion,
Oblivians,
Sight & Sound,
Rekid,
Iggy Pop,
Saccharine Trust,
The Standells,
The Golliwogs,
Robert Görl,
Eve St. Jones,
John Foxx,
Pierre Henry,
Black Bananas,
Ossler,
Outsiders,
The Gun Club,
Shoche,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.