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 Germany and from Calgary.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 sitar 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the electroclash 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Jacob Miller,
The Victims,
Pet Shop Boys,
Junior Murvin,
Joey Negro,
The Tremeloes,
Jacques Brel,
La Düsseldorf,
10cc,
Barrington Levy,
Mission of Burma,
Barbara Tucker,
Goldenarms,
Yusef Lateef,
Marmalade,
The Index,
The New Christs,
Gang Green,
World's Most,
Aural Exciters,
Robert Hood,
Cybotron,
Vladislav Delay,
Japan,
Roy Ayers,
The Searchers,
Television,
Cluster,
Cal Tjader,
The Smiths,
The Names,
The Cramps,
Young Marble Giants,
Symarip,
Kool Moe Dee,
One Last Wish,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Busters,
Jeff Mills,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Harmonia,
Jawbox,
Duran Duran,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Slackers,
Excepter,
The Five Americans,
Fela Kuti,
Roger Hodgson,
Average White Band,
The Gories,
Angry Samoans,
Minnie Riperton,
Neil Young,
Pantaleimon,
Siglo XX,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Sheep,
Patti Smith,
Idris Muhammad,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.