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 Germany and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ken Boothe to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
EPMD,
U.S. Maple,
Aaron Thompson,
China Crisis,
Deakin,
One Last Wish,
Glambeats Corp.,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Charles Mingus,
Lungfish,
Fugazi,
Ludus,
KRS-One,
Isaac Hayes,
The Kinks,
Roxy Music,
The Five Americans,
Suburban Knight,
Johnny Clarke,
June Days,
Derrick Morgan,
Idris Muhammad,
Icehouse,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marine Girls,
Brick,
Oneida,
Soul II Soul,
The Martian,
Gabor Szabo,
Symarip,
Sound Behaviour,
Japan,
Gong,
Slave,
Glenn Branca,
Pagans,
The Standells,
Reagan Youth,
Sun City Girls,
Pole,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gang Starr,
The Black Dice,
the Bar-Kays,
Amon Düül II,
Eric Dolphy,
Camberwell Now,
Drexciya,
Inner City,
Nils Olav,
Fad Gadget,
Tres Demented,
Minor Threat,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tropical Tobacco,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.