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 Laos and from Stockholm.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
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 sitar 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 Scan 7 to the disco 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Avey Tare,
Crooked Eye,
Lyres,
Swell Maps,
David Bowie,
New Order,
Eric Dolphy,
Wolf Eyes,
Lou Christie,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Erykah Badu,
Radiohead,
Parry Music,
Deakin,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Al Stewart,
Japan,
Subhumans,
June of 44,
Dead Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eve St. Jones,
Soft Machine,
Althea and Donna,
Public Image Ltd.,
Robert Görl,
Porter Ricks,
The Barracudas,
Kurtis Blow,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Black Pus,
The Toasters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Derrick May,
Sister Nancy,
Unwound,
Depeche Mode,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Skatalites,
Tubeway Army,
The Seeds,
Absolute Body Control,
Stetsasonic,
FM Einheit,
Saccharine Trust,
Vainqueur,
Fad Gadget,
Dual Sessions,
Bill Wells,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Big Daddy Kane,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
T. Rex,
Quantec,
John Coltrane,
Ice-T,
Harry Pussy,
Electric Prunes,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.