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 Uruguay and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bang On A Can to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Association. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Yazoo,
The Doors,
Mad Mike,
Lindisfarne,
Johnny Clarke,
Gerry Rafferty,
Arthur Verocai,
ABC,
Eli Mardock,
Suicide,
Eyeless In Gaza,
ABBA,
Slick Rick,
Tubeway Army,
Von Mondo,
In Retrospect,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pantytec,
Byron Stingily,
Black Moon,
Minny Pops,
X-102,
Ossler,
Yusef Lateef,
Monolake,
Procol Harum,
Fad Gadget,
Flash Fearless,
Derrick Morgan,
Intrusion,
Lungfish,
Vainqueur,
Barry Ungar,
Depeche Mode,
Barclay James Harvest,
E-Dancer,
Matthew Bourne,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Blackbyrds,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Fortunes,
Stereo Dub,
The Dead C,
Agitation Free,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Terry Callier,
Soul II Soul,
Lyres,
Amon Düül II,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Slackers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Letta Mbulu,
The Modern Lovers,
The Last Poets,
The J.B.'s,
Negative Approach,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.