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 Algeria and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Outsiders to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
The Pop Group,
Livin' Joy,
Bronski Beat,
Terrestrial Tones,
Hardrive,
The Golliwogs,
Eurythmics,
Yellowson,
U.S. Maple,
Juan Atkins,
Fad Gadget,
Robert Hood,
DJ Style,
T.S.O.L.,
The Happenings,
Little Man,
World's Most,
Joey Negro,
Fugazi,
Animal Collective,
Scratch Acid,
Black Bananas,
Royal Trux,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nas,
The J.B.'s,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hashim,
Scientists,
PIL,
Mo-Dettes,
Suburban Knight,
Don Cherry,
Lindisfarne,
Rufus Thomas,
Glenn Branca,
LL Cool J,
New York Dolls,
Flash Fearless,
Cheater Slicks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kerri Chandler,
Althea and Donna,
Stiv Bators,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sex Pistols,
Chrome,
Sandy B,
Nirvana,
Sight & Sound,
Idris Muhammad,
Chris Corsano,
Kerrie Biddell,
Minutemen,
Anthony Braxton,
La Düsseldorf,
Lou Christie,
Isaac Hayes,
Funkadelic,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.