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 Zimbabwe and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb 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 The Happenings to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unrelated Segments,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Audionom,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Last Poets,
Shuggie Otis,
Chrome,
Soul Sonic Force,
Easy Going,
Kayak,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lakeside,
Cecil Taylor,
The United States of America,
The Litter,
John Coltrane,
Al Stewart,
Rotary Connection,
Das Ding,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Smog,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mad Mike,
The Human League,
Don Cherry,
Bush Tetras,
Max Romeo,
Camouflage,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Offenders,
Delon & Dalcan,
Talk Talk,
Fatback Band,
Ten City,
Dennis Brown,
Average White Band,
Gichy Dan,
Main Source,
Deakin,
Roy Ayers,
Shoche,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Leaves,
The Index,
Von Mondo,
X-Ray Spex,
Surgeon,
Anthony Braxton,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cheater Slicks,
Mr. Review,
Slick Rick,
In Retrospect,
Neu!,
Aaron Thompson,
Robert Hood,
Pole,
Lower 48,
John Foxx,
Tommy Roe,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.