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 Nicaragua and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
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 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Bar-Kays to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
E-Dancer,
Soul II Soul,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Young Rascals,
The Star Department,
Nirvana,
Slick Rick,
Nation of Ulysses,
Arab on Radar,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
DNA,
Mantronix,
Gichy Dan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Matthew Bourne,
Minny Pops,
Rekid,
Tomorrow,
Donald Byrd,
The Kinks,
Pantaleimon,
The Blues Magoos,
Quando Quango,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pussy Galore,
Dawn Penn,
Tropical Tobacco,
A Certain Ratio,
John Coltrane,
Don Cherry,
Crash Course in Science,
Rapeman,
Sixth Finger,
Sonny Sharrock,
Amazonics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hot Snakes,
Sound Behaviour,
Black Flag,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Saints,
The Angels of Light,
the Fania All-Stars,
Piero Umiliani,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Moody Blues,
Ultra Naté,
Alphaville,
Scientists,
Average White Band,
Scion,
Nick Fraelich,
Boredoms,
Duran Duran,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ohio Players,
Au Pairs,
David McCallum,
Darondo,
Organ,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.