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 Spokane.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the snare 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 Steve Hackett to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Y Pants,
ABC,
The Standells,
Schoolly D,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fatback Band,
Rekid,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Gun Club,
The Victims,
E-Dancer,
Ituana,
Pantaleimon,
Tim Buckley,
Sex Pistols,
Hot Snakes,
Erasure,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Al Stewart,
Young Marble Giants,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Five Americans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Warsaw,
Q65,
Little Man,
Godley & Creme,
The Barracudas,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ponytail,
Cameo,
Gang Green,
Moss Icon,
The Gories,
Royal Trux,
Chris & Cosey,
The United States of America,
Judy Mowatt,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bizarre Inc.,
Todd Rundgren,
Lalo Schifrin,
June of 44,
the Association,
Ten City,
Sandy B,
Guru Guru,
Metal Thangz,
X-102,
a-ha,
Davy DMX,
A Certain Ratio,
Moby Grape,
Barbara Tucker,
Yazoo,
Fear,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Kinks,
D'Angelo,
Carl Craig,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.