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 Solomon Islands and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the jazz 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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
Deadbeat,
Glenn Branca,
Stereo Dub,
Minutemen,
Little Man,
The Grass Roots,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pere Ubu,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Birthday Party,
Funkadelic,
Kerri Chandler,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Q65,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Johnny Clarke,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Heaven 17,
Sarah Menescal,
Rakim,
Joy Division,
Marvin Gaye,
Amon Düül II,
Pylon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Derrick Morgan,
The Stooges,
Cameo,
The Red Krayola,
Gastr Del Sol,
Liliput,
Juan Atkins,
Tim Buckley,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pet Shop Boys,
Wings,
Letta Mbulu,
Avey Tare,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jeff Lynne,
John Foxx,
Scrapy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Darondo,
Urselle,
Smog,
ABC,
Slave,
The Leaves,
Niagra,
Eve St. Jones,
Boredoms,
Can,
Tubeway Army,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.