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 Russia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 harpsichord 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 Dual Sessions to the crunk 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Ronnie Foster,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ornette Coleman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jeff Lynne,
Man Parrish,
Faust,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Masters at Work,
Stereo Dub,
Jeru the Damaja,
James White and The Blacks,
Jacques Brel,
Y Pants,
Terry Callier,
LL Cool J,
The Dave Clark Five,
Barry Ungar,
Grandmaster Flash,
Accadde A,
Ituana,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Anakelly,
Spoonie Gee,
Agitation Free,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kenny Larkin,
Zero Boys,
Lungfish,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mad Mike,
Eurythmics,
Bill Wells,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Model 500,
AZ,
Darondo,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Standells,
FM Einheit,
Bauhaus,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sight & Sound,
Animal Collective,
Mark Hollis,
The Raincoats,
The Knickerbockers,
Quando Quango,
The Vogues,
Shuggie Otis,
The Seeds,
Thompson Twins,
Oneida,
Amon Düül II,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Detroit Cobras,
Moby Grape,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.