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 Vietnam and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Brand Nubian to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Fatback Band,
The Standells,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sun City Girls,
The Litter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scientists,
Kurtis Blow,
One Last Wish,
Max Romeo,
Masters at Work,
Thee Headcoats,
Barry Ungar,
Yusef Lateef,
Oneida,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Skaos,
The Five Americans,
New Age Steppers,
Ituana,
Siglo XX,
The Dead C,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tropical Tobacco,
MC5,
Boredoms,
The Birthday Party,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Prince Buster,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Pop Group,
Stiv Bators,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cluster,
Bizarre Inc.,
Alice Coltrane,
Second Layer,
Chrome,
Radio Birdman,
Goldenarms,
Ultravox,
Joy Division,
Hashim,
Donald Byrd,
Deadbeat,
Pierre Henry,
The Durutti Column,
Echospace,
Icehouse,
The Gun Club,
Black Bananas,
Jacques Brel,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Red Krayola,
Wolf Eyes,
Ice-T,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.