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 Indonesia and from Glasgow.
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 Paris and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Metal Thangz to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sarah Menescal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Bobby Sherman,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Franke,
Los Fastidios,
Roy Ayers,
Deadbeat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Blackbyrds,
Moebius,
Soul Sonic Force,
Maleditus Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
La Düsseldorf,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Make Up,
Whodini,
Porter Ricks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Altered Images,
Second Layer,
Lightning Bolt,
Heaven 17,
Pet Shop Boys,
Blancmange,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jacques Brel,
Parry Music,
Maurizio,
The Busters,
KRS-One,
Davy DMX,
The Cowsills,
Yaz,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Scrapy,
Mission of Burma,
Electric Light Orchestra,
John Holt,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Intrusion,
Minnie Riperton,
The Golliwogs,
Eve St. Jones,
The Moody Blues,
Anakelly,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fear,
China Crisis,
Jacob Miller,
Camberwell Now,
The Victims,
DNA,
Wolf Eyes,
Pantytec,
Pylon,
B.T. Express,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sarah Menescal,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gang of Four,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.