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 Libya and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin 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 Byron Stingily to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Bluetip,
The Fuzztones,
Nas,
Supertramp,
Wally Richardson,
Easy Going,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rhythm & Sound,
Dead Boys,
The American Breed,
Minor Threat,
Bill Wells,
The Smiths,
June of 44,
Connie Case,
Technova,
Anthony Braxton,
New Age Steppers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Soulsonic Force,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Real Kids,
The Young Rascals,
Brothers Johnson,
Letta Mbulu,
Metal Thangz,
Colin Newman,
Alison Limerick,
Ultravox,
Tomorrow,
ABC,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jacob Miller,
Eve St. Jones,
Bronski Beat,
The Names,
The Skatalites,
Von Mondo,
Brass Construction,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tropical Tobacco,
Faust,
Black Moon,
Scan 7,
Nirvana,
Laurel Aitken,
Oneida,
Moebius,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sällskapet,
Rosa Yemen,
Scientists,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hasil Adkins,
Blossom Toes,
Alice Coltrane,
Todd Terry,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.