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 Cyprus and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Gories to the funk 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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Eric Copeland,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Charles Mingus,
Faraquet,
The New Christs,
The Victims,
Jeff Lynne,
Dark Day,
Scientists,
Joe Smooth,
The Residents,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pole,
Section 25,
Tom Boy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Robert Görl,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
AZ,
Cecil Taylor,
The Saints,
In Retrospect,
Alison Limerick,
Icehouse,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ten City,
Grandmaster Flash,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kas Product,
Leonard Cohen,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Susan Cadogan,
Lalann,
Fat Boys,
Cymande,
Amon Düül II,
KRS-One,
Porter Ricks,
The Invisible,
Stiv Bators,
Gang Starr,
Average White Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Oblivians,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gong,
The Fugs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Intrusion,
Kerrie Biddell,
Royal Trux,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fall,
The Count Five,
Godley & Creme,
The Offenders,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.