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 Kuwait 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the grime 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Searchers,
Minor Threat,
The Cure,
Pierre Henry,
Scan 7,
The Five Americans,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
48th St. Collective,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Severed Heads,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kenny Larkin,
The Trojans,
Matthew Bourne,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Anakelly,
Lyres,
Quantec,
Moebius,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Yazoo,
Josef K,
Don Cherry,
Rod Modell,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wings,
Trumans Water,
The Mojo Men,
Faraquet,
The Vogues,
The Moleskins,
Gang Starr,
Scientists,
Adolescents,
D'Angelo,
Harmonia,
Jeff Mills,
Mars,
Bang On A Can,
The Fall,
Tommy Roe,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bob Dylan,
Sound Behaviour,
Make Up,
Interpol,
Wolf Eyes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
K-Klass,
The Durutti Column,
Lower 48,
Desert Stars,
Eli Mardock,
Jimmy McGriff,
Schoolly D,
Sister Nancy,
Cymande,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.