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 Latvia and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Black Moon to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Yazoo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Fatback Band,
The Neon Judgement,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Barracudas,
The Misunderstood,
Procol Harum,
X-101,
The Angels of Light,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Angry Samoans,
The Dirtbombs,
Niagra,
Robert Hood,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bob Dylan,
Matthew Bourne,
The Fugs,
Roger Hodgson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
World's Most,
Soul Sonic Force,
Drive Like Jehu,
X-102,
John Coltrane,
Erykah Badu,
The Divine Comedy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sixth Finger,
In Retrospect,
Tres Demented,
Cheater Slicks,
Pylon,
Deadbeat,
Agitation Free,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Urselle,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Public Enemy,
Todd Terry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Anakelly,
the Human League,
Alice Coltrane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Black Dice,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ronan,
Judy Mowatt,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jeru the Damaja,
Buzzcocks,
Neil Young,
Organ,
Glambeats Corp.,
MC5,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Aural Exciters,
Fear,
Mission of Burma,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.