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 East Timor and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Ronnie Foster to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Bang On A Can,
Josef K,
The Slits,
The Searchers,
Can,
Minny Pops,
Gichy Dan,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lungfish,
Rufus Thomas,
Ohio Players,
Funky Four + One,
The Seeds,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
World's Most,
Bobby Womack,
Gil Scott Heron,
Steve Hackett,
H. Thieme,
Erasure,
Monolake,
Skriet,
Henry Cow,
Moby Grape,
The Red Krayola,
The Modern Lovers,
Oblivians,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Bananas,
In Retrospect,
Nik Kershaw,
the Germs,
Marc Almond,
Bootsy Collins,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mission of Burma,
The Trojans,
Au Pairs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
L. Decosne,
The Doors,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nation of Ulysses,
ABC,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
EPMD,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Newcleus,
Mad Mike,
The Blues Magoos,
Donald Byrd,
D'Angelo,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sandy B,
Vainqueur,
Lower 48,
Quando Quango,
48th St. Collective,
The Golliwogs,
Yellowson,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.