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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Holger Czukay 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 Sexual Harrassment to the jazz 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Erykah Badu,
Rufus Thomas,
The Gories,
Fugazi,
Boz Scaggs,
Jeff Lynne,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Sisters of Mercy,
AZ,
The Tremeloes,
10cc,
Agent Orange,
The Mummies,
Roy Ayers,
Zapp,
Bob Dylan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Kinks,
Bootsy Collins,
Eric Copeland,
These Immortal Souls,
The Smoke,
Infiniti,
The Grass Roots,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rekid,
Animal Collective,
Y Pants,
Roger Hodgson,
Massinfluence,
Lindisfarne,
Reagan Youth,
Thompson Twins,
Kenny Larkin,
Moss Icon,
Tubeway Army,
Hoover,
The Durutti Column,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Public Enemy,
The Moleskins,
Drexciya,
Kerri Chandler,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Monochrome Set,
Saccharine Trust,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Victims,
MC5,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Coltrane,
Robert Hood,
Subhumans,
John Foxx,
Banda Bassotti,
The Dead C,
The Stooges,
Black Pus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Niagra,
Japan,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.