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 Swaziland and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sight & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Johnny Clarke,
Thee Headcoats,
Fugazi,
The Saints,
Carl Craig,
The Smiths,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eurythmics,
Los Fastidios,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Fugs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minny Pops,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Chris & Cosey,
Crispian St. Peters,
Byron Stingily,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Dead C,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Junior Murvin,
Slick Rick,
Robert Wyatt,
Frankie Knuckles,
Stiv Bators,
Jeff Lynne,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Soul II Soul,
Althea and Donna,
Marine Girls,
Max Romeo,
Marc Almond,
Bob Dylan,
Television Personalities,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cal Tjader,
Ituana,
Scan 7,
Quantec,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Magma,
B.T. Express,
Harmonia,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Motions,
Don Cherry,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Monochrome Set,
The Star Department,
Mo-Dettes,
Graham Central Station,
The Doors,
Average White Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Liliput,
Agent Orange,
Rakim,
Drive Like Jehu,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.