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 Papua New Guinea and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba 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 Lower 48 to the punk 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
E-Dancer,
Eddi Front,
Circle Jerks,
Maurizio,
A Certain Ratio,
Subhumans,
Joey Negro,
Gerry Rafferty,
David Axelrod,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rekid,
Can,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Faraquet,
Bronski Beat,
Jeff Lynne,
Freddie Wadling,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soft Machine,
Quadrant,
Schoolly D,
Scan 7,
The Five Americans,
The Last Poets,
Bizarre Inc.,
Maleditus Sound,
Monks,
Terrestrial Tones,
OOIOO,
Tommy Roe,
Zapp,
Crime,
Harpers Bizarre,
Spoonie Gee,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Vogues,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Human League,
The Smoke,
CMW,
Agent Orange,
Shuggie Otis,
In Retrospect,
Fugazi,
John Foxx,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Amazonics,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Hashim,
Gichy Dan,
Niagra,
Basic Channel,
Procol Harum,
Chris & Cosey,
The Blackbyrds,
Half Japanese,
Todd Rundgren,
Grey Daturas,
World's Most,
Aswad,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.