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 Congo and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Holger Czukay 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
The Skatalites,
The Blackbyrds,
The Durutti Column,
The Real Kids,
Guru Guru,
Stiv Bators,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ornette Coleman,
Brass Construction,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Standells,
Joyce Sims,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Kinks,
The Monks,
Radiohead,
ABBA,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Last Poets,
The Monochrome Set,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Agent Orange,
Harry Pussy,
Davy DMX,
Sun Ra,
Eden Ahbez,
Steve Hackett,
Rotary Connection,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Brothers Johnson,
cv313,
The Dirtbombs,
Soft Machine,
Thompson Twins,
Soft Cell,
Mr. Review,
Zero Boys,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jeff Lynne,
The United States of America,
Graham Central Station,
Intrusion,
Jawbox,
Black Sheep,
The Trojans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Minutemen,
Rakim,
Mad Mike,
Sun City Girls,
Arab on Radar,
Electric Prunes,
Absolute Body Control,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Accadde A,
Mission of Burma,
Pagans,
Underground Resistance,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.