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 Greece and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 808 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 Barrington Levy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
ABBA,
the Association,
Lou Christie,
Main Source,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Invisible,
The Golliwogs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gang of Four,
The Vogues,
Todd Rundgren,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dark Day,
Goldenarms,
Ornette Coleman,
These Immortal Souls,
Steve Hackett,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Beasts of Bourbon,
China Crisis,
Alphaville,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Oblivians,
Zapp,
Funkadelic,
Amazonics,
Animal Collective,
The Raincoats,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lalann,
Whodini,
Television Personalities,
The Cure,
Chris & Cosey,
Panda Bear,
Popol Vuh,
The Angels of Light,
Scientists,
Lee Hazlewood,
Slave,
Albert Ayler,
Au Pairs,
The United States of America,
F. McDonald,
Royal Trux,
The Doors,
The Slackers,
The Pretty Things,
New York Dolls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Germs,
Soft Cell,
The Knickerbockers,
Janne Schatter,
Judy Mowatt,
Spoonie Gee,
Stetsasonic,
Slick Rick,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.