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 Armenia and from Delhi.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 snare 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the punk 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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Fela Kuti,
David McCallum,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nick Fraelich,
Zapp,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lalann,
Cluster,
Massinfluence,
Eric Dolphy,
The United States of America,
Tears for Fears,
The Durutti Column,
Technova,
Harry Pussy,
The Move,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric Copeland,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cure,
Cybotron,
The Buckinghams,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Arcadia,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Panda Bear,
Prince Buster,
Erykah Badu,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Invisible,
Youth Brigade,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rosa Yemen,
Bad Manners,
The Slackers,
The Zeros,
Au Pairs,
Anthony Braxton,
Unwound,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tommy Roe,
Eddi Front,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pylon,
Joyce Sims,
Crash Course in Science,
Bush Tetras,
Neu!,
Derrick Morgan,
Vainqueur,
Unrelated Segments,
the Sonics,
Curtis Mayfield,
Yusef Lateef,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Supertramp,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.