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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 LL Cool J to the grime 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
Monks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dead Boys,
The Sonics,
Khruangbin,
Ornette Coleman,
Hot Snakes,
John Cale,
Talk Talk,
10cc,
Bizarre Inc.,
Saccharine Trust,
Isaac Hayes,
Liliput,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nirvana,
Aural Exciters,
Dark Day,
The Grass Roots,
Johnny Clarke,
The Kinks,
Lou Christie,
Kenny Larkin,
Cecil Taylor,
Darondo,
Lakeside,
Juan Atkins,
X-101,
Gong,
Mark Hollis,
The Divine Comedy,
Moebius,
Godley & Creme,
Radio Birdman,
Black Flag,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Byrd,
Pulsallama,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ossler,
The Motions,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Cramps,
U.S. Maple,
Archie Shepp,
the Swans,
Ralphi Rosario,
Agitation Free,
Graham Central Station,
Ten City,
Crooked Eye,
The Moody Blues,
Blossom Toes,
Pylon,
Surgeon,
Eve St. Jones,
Basic Channel,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.