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 Seychelles and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Funkadelic to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Seeds,
Bang On A Can,
Minor Threat,
Scrapy,
Magma,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eve St. Jones,
Surgeon,
Reagan Youth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Susan Cadogan,
John Coltrane,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Freddie Wadling,
John Holt,
Desert Stars,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aswad,
Aloha Tigers,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Five Americans,
Faust,
Ossler,
Boz Scaggs,
The Skatalites,
The Evens,
Supertramp,
Charles Mingus,
X-101,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Zapp,
Ornette Coleman,
The Mojo Men,
Roxette,
Mr. Review,
Barrington Levy,
Ludus,
Mo-Dettes,
Theoretical Girls,
Cymande,
Mary Jane Girls,
Big Daddy Kane,
Minutemen,
Ten City,
Joensuu 1685,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jeff Mills,
The Cramps,
Lightning Bolt,
Talk Talk,
Amon Düül II,
Robert Hood,
Sonny Sharrock,
Archie Shepp,
Pagans,
Infiniti,
Isaac Hayes,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.