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 Senegal and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 güiro 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 Brick to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Visage,
The Standells,
Television,
Ronan,
Nico,
The Fuzztones,
Barry Ungar,
Surgeon,
Mo-Dettes,
Pulsallama,
The Victims,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Minnie Riperton,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Kurtis Blow,
The Modern Lovers,
Amazonics,
Sun Ra,
Harry Pussy,
Colin Newman,
Howard Jones,
Cameo,
Buzzcocks,
Marc Almond,
Kerri Chandler,
Motorama,
Gichy Dan,
The Martian,
Alphaville,
Tubeway Army,
Sister Nancy,
In Retrospect,
Marvin Gaye,
Schoolly D,
Letta Mbulu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
B.T. Express,
David McCallum,
John Coltrane,
T.S.O.L.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Youth Brigade,
The Fall,
Unrelated Segments,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Warsaw,
Ten City,
Joyce Sims,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Freddie Wadling,
Ultra Naté,
Quando Quango,
Excepter,
Loose Ends,
Lindisfarne,
Roy Ayers,
Swell Maps,
Rapeman,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.