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 Thailand and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the punk 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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Swans,
The Evens,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Surgeon,
The Slackers,
Spoonie Gee,
The Vogues,
T.S.O.L.,
Electric Prunes,
Stereo Dub,
Chris Corsano,
Circle Jerks,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Monks,
R.M.O.,
Flipper,
Moss Icon,
Scrapy,
the Swans,
Curtis Mayfield,
Don Cherry,
Desert Stars,
Country Teasers,
Magma,
Drive Like Jehu,
Charles Mingus,
Steve Hackett,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Toni Rubio,
Bad Manners,
Moebius,
Joe Finger,
The Sound,
The Real Kids,
Echospace,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Davy DMX,
Interpol,
The Offenders,
Roger Hodgson,
Aaron Thompson,
Hoover,
Dennis Brown,
The Birthday Party,
The Seeds,
Shuggie Otis,
Sun Ra,
Lou Christie,
Bush Tetras,
Chrome,
Parry Music,
Tears for Fears,
Ultra Naté,
Barbara Tucker,
Alphaville,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.