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 Latvia and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Steve Hackett to the dance 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Neon Judgement,
New York Dolls,
Jawbox,
Glambeats Corp.,
Darondo,
Unwound,
Roy Ayers,
Surgeon,
Gang of Four,
The J.B.'s,
The Tremeloes,
Japan,
Shuggie Otis,
The Misunderstood,
Arab on Radar,
The Selecter,
Roxette,
Pantytec,
PIL,
Charles Mingus,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Nico,
Quantec,
The Last Poets,
June of 44,
Circle Jerks,
Monks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Yazoo,
Don Cherry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cybotron,
Shoche,
Q and Not U,
Harmonia,
Bill Near,
The Toasters,
Sun Ra,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Clear Light,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rotary Connection,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Young Rascals,
Loose Ends,
Mr. Review,
Aural Exciters,
Avey Tare,
the Germs,
Maurizio,
The Knickerbockers,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Moon,
Magma,
Monolake,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Slits,
Intrusion,
Thee Headcoats,
Todd Terry,
The Sound,
Stetsasonic,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.