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 Finland and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Blancmange to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Kerrie Biddell,
Patti Smith,
John Coltrane,
The Neon Judgement,
the Association,
Yellowson,
Toni Rubio,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gang Starr,
Mad Mike,
MDC,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lyres,
The Remains,
Kaleidoscope,
The Leaves,
Can,
Mars,
The Motions,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Barracudas,
Dark Day,
Arthur Verocai,
Delta 5,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Circle Jerks,
The Music Machine,
The Real Kids,
Wasted Youth,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fatback Band,
Slave,
Dead Boys,
Heaven 17,
Chris & Cosey,
Camouflage,
Steve Hackett,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Stooges,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bill Wells,
Clear Light,
The Move,
Sound Behaviour,
The Kinks,
The Moody Blues,
Organ,
Prince Buster,
Minnie Riperton,
Buzzcocks,
Sight & Sound,
Ralphi Rosario,
Half Japanese,
Nirvana,
Morten Harket,
Tommy Roe,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sun Ra,
Minutemen,
Sandy B,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.