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 Ghana and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Little Man to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Man Parrish,
Bootsy Collins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Johnny Clarke,
Gabor Szabo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Barry Ungar,
The Smiths,
Duran Duran,
KRS-One,
Camberwell Now,
Alison Limerick,
Monks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Slits,
Thee Headcoats,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Germs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fuzztones,
Hardrive,
Tubeway Army,
Erykah Badu,
Young Marble Giants,
The Kinks,
Suburban Knight,
Soft Machine,
Glenn Branca,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Maurizio,
Deakin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
JFA,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Soulsonic Force,
Michelle Simonal,
Wally Richardson,
Ultra Naté,
Tom Boy,
Scion,
Skaos,
Marcia Griffiths,
Aswad,
Tears for Fears,
Black Pus,
Pole,
Jandek,
Joe Smooth,
Black Sheep,
K-Klass,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Harry Pussy,
Guru Guru,
The J.B.'s,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.