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 Grenada and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Flesh Eaters to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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?
Warsaw,
Kurtis Blow,
The Pop Group,
Inner City,
Alison Limerick,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
DJ Sneak,
Moss Icon,
Amon Düül,
These Immortal Souls,
Ponytail,
Quadrant,
Slave,
Camberwell Now,
Adolescents,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Sound,
The Cramps,
Peter and Kerry,
Connie Case,
Johnny Osbourne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
June Days,
Rekid,
Hot Snakes,
Essential Logic,
Livin' Joy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Spandau Ballet,
Eve St. Jones,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
X-102,
Gichy Dan,
Gil Scott Heron,
Moby Grape,
Porter Ricks,
The Golliwogs,
Siglo XX,
Colin Newman,
The Dead C,
The Evens,
The Pretty Things,
Ken Boothe,
The Gladiators,
Procol Harum,
The Cowsills,
Stockholm Monsters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Youth Brigade,
Second Layer,
Camouflage,
Funkadelic,
Whodini,
a-ha,
Liliput,
T.S.O.L.,
The Associates,
Wally Richardson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.