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 China and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 808 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the grunge 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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Qualms,
KRS-One,
Big Daddy Kane,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Oneida,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lucky Dragons,
AZ,
Junior Murvin,
Reagan Youth,
Wings,
the Soft Cell,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
World's Most,
Swans,
Isaac Hayes,
Grauzone,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joe Smooth,
LL Cool J,
Bobbi Humphrey,
New Order,
Radio Birdman,
Tomorrow,
Duran Duran,
Minnie Riperton,
Audionom,
Cal Tjader,
Slick Rick,
La Düsseldorf,
The Last Poets,
Trumans Water,
Dark Day,
Soft Machine,
Tears for Fears,
Lightning Bolt,
Eli Mardock,
The United States of America,
John Coltrane,
Gang Starr,
Faraquet,
Janne Schatter,
Procol Harum,
Adolescents,
Fugazi,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Quando Quango,
Delta 5,
The Gladiators,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pylon,
Carl Craig,
Stiv Bators,
Sonic Youth,
Chris Corsano,
New Age Steppers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Quantec,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.