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 Panama and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Soft Cell,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jesper Dahlback,
Connie Case,
Royal Trux,
Oneida,
David Axelrod,
Matthew Bourne,
Tom Boy,
Stetsasonic,
Eli Mardock,
Stockholm Monsters,
T.S.O.L.,
Eric B and Rakim,
Warren Ellis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Masters at Work,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Womack,
Adolescents,
UT,
The Busters,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nas,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Henry Cow,
The Saints,
Terry Callier,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scott Walker,
Pole,
Yellowson,
Wings,
Zapp,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fatback Band,
ABBA,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jacques Brel,
Stereo Dub,
Gang Green,
Shoche,
Deadbeat,
Underground Resistance,
Goldenarms,
Section 25,
Avey Tare,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Soul II Soul,
Dark Day,
Sugar Minott,
Ultra Naté,
Hashim,
Maleditus Sound,
World's Most,
Barbara Tucker,
Moss Icon,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.