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 Sri Lanka and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Shuggie Otis to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams 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 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 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Knickerbockers,
X-Ray Spex,
Easy Going,
The Searchers,
Yellowson,
Cluster,
DJ Sneak,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Suburban Knight,
Sun City Girls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Gories,
Nation of Ulysses,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rapeman,
The Dirtbombs,
Con Funk Shun,
Mad Mike,
Kas Product,
Joey Negro,
Saccharine Trust,
The Five Americans,
Marshall Jefferson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Basic Channel,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Neon Judgement,
The Durutti Column,
LL Cool J,
Bang On A Can,
David Axelrod,
Echospace,
Depeche Mode,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pere Ubu,
The Fall,
Shoche,
Zero Boys,
Faust,
Ultravox,
The Electric Prunes,
Circle Jerks,
Mr. Review,
Judy Mowatt,
Malaria!,
Little Man,
Main Source,
Brand Nubian,
Darondo,
The Misunderstood,
The Walker Brothers,
Junior Murvin,
Robert Wyatt,
Dawn Penn,
Von Mondo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Hasil Adkins,
Kurtis Blow,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.