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 Pakistan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 guitar 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the dance 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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
In Retrospect,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Thee Headcoats,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Niagra,
R.M.O.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Q and Not U,
The United States of America,
Gang Green,
The Remains,
Sexual Harrassment,
Blake Baxter,
June of 44,
Matthew Halsall,
Half Japanese,
Ken Boothe,
Depeche Mode,
The Skatalites,
The Dirtbombs,
Whodini,
The Gap Band,
Simply Red,
Hardrive,
Massinfluence,
Reagan Youth,
Jacques Brel,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Neon Judgement,
Thompson Twins,
The Red Krayola,
The Slackers,
Nick Fraelich,
Intrusion,
Bill Wells,
Harry Pussy,
Susan Cadogan,
The Count Five,
Crash Course in Science,
The Angels of Light,
Roxy Music,
Cluster,
Joe Finger,
Roxette,
Interpol,
Fela Kuti,
Bill Near,
Ornette Coleman,
Agent Orange,
Quantec,
David Axelrod,
Sun Ra,
Scott Walker,
Sight & Sound,
Groovy Waters,
Unwound,
Arthur Verocai,
Can,
Matthew Bourne,
Tubeway Army,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.