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 Ukraine and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
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 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 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
John Foxx,
Eli Mardock,
Make Up,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Bar-Kays,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cybotron,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Quando Quango,
Saccharine Trust,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Aural Exciters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gerry Rafferty,
Subhumans,
Black Bananas,
ABC,
Los Fastidios,
Marcia Griffiths,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Altered Images,
Severed Heads,
Model 500,
Albert Ayler,
Morten Harket,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mantronix,
Pole,
Nick Fraelich,
Harry Pussy,
Curtis Mayfield,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Knickerbockers,
Tommy Roe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Infiniti,
Funky Four + One,
Robert Wyatt,
Hardrive,
Eric Copeland,
David Bowie,
The Sonics,
The Associates,
Harmonia,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
John Coltrane,
Soft Cell,
Popol Vuh,
Pussy Galore,
Brand Nubian,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
EPMD,
Glambeats Corp.,
Adolescents,
Motorama,
Animal Collective,
Scan 7,
Flipper,
Stetsasonic,
Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd..
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.