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 Chad and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Harry Pussy to the grime 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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Hoover,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wire,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cluster,
The Cramps,
Bang On A Can,
Amazonics,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nas,
Ituana,
The Smoke,
Bobby Womack,
Country Teasers,
Barrington Levy,
Pantaleimon,
The Blackbyrds,
Cheater Slicks,
Prince Buster,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fugs,
B.T. Express,
The Real Kids,
Hasil Adkins,
Little Man,
Slick Rick,
Reagan Youth,
Faraquet,
Tears for Fears,
Byron Stingily,
Leonard Cohen,
Gang Starr,
Glenn Branca,
Suicide,
Skarface,
Avey Tare,
Warsaw,
Oneida,
Carl Craig,
the Association,
Rakim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Electric Prunes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roy Ayers,
Whodini,
Public Image Ltd.,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Public Enemy,
UT,
Silicon Teens,
Lee Hazlewood,
Monolake,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.