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 Netherlands and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Barclay James Harvest to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Black Moon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Inner City,
Infiniti,
Black Pus,
Deadbeat,
London Community Gospel Choir,
These Immortal Souls,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cymande,
Junior Murvin,
48th St. Collective,
Youth Brigade,
Hashim,
Scientists,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bootsy Collins,
Harmonia,
the Association,
Fear,
Prince Buster,
Guru Guru,
Joe Finger,
Skriet,
Davy DMX,
Gang of Four,
Leonard Cohen,
the Sonics,
Eric B and Rakim,
Josef K,
Oneida,
The Last Poets,
The Leaves,
The Toasters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kaleidoscope,
World's Most,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fortunes,
Liliput,
Cameo,
Ronnie Foster,
Tomorrow,
X-Ray Spex,
Sällskapet,
David Bowie,
The Gap Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Saints,
Surgeon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Matthew Bourne,
Scan 7,
Joensuu 1685,
Ultra Naté,
Soft Machine,
Little Man,
Electric Prunes,
The Selecter,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.