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 Liechtenstein and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer 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 Jerry's Kids to the jazz 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
The Pretty Things,
The Real Kids,
The Associates,
Be Bop Deluxe,
L. Decosne,
The Monks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Slick Rick,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nation of Ulysses,
Colin Newman,
DNA,
Grey Daturas,
The Music Machine,
Stiv Bators,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Barclay James Harvest,
LL Cool J,
Ituana,
MDC,
Royal Trux,
Joe Smooth,
ABC,
Animal Collective,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Drexciya,
Tres Demented,
Visage,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Association,
Porter Ricks,
The Happenings,
Supertramp,
X-Ray Spex,
Goldenarms,
Joey Negro,
The Residents,
Marc Almond,
Donald Byrd,
Sällskapet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Groovy Waters,
Hot Snakes,
Livin' Joy,
Niagra,
Brick,
Ronnie Foster,
UT,
Popol Vuh,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Agent Orange,
kango's stein massive,
Nirvana,
Cluster,
the Bar-Kays,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.