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 Iceland and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Porter Ricks to the crunk 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Fat Boys,
The New Christs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Drexciya,
Minor Threat,
Nik Kershaw,
Jawbox,
The Real Kids,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Seeds,
Crispian St. Peters,
Clear Light,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Names,
Motorama,
the Human League,
Theoretical Girls,
Marvin Gaye,
Maurizio,
Michelle Simonal,
Kaleidoscope,
Deakin,
Gichy Dan,
Carl Craig,
John Holt,
Funkadelic,
T. Rex,
FM Einheit,
Magma,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Zeros,
Bluetip,
Lou Christie,
Arcadia,
Thompson Twins,
Godley & Creme,
the Germs,
The Mojo Men,
The Neon Judgement,
The Gories,
The Standells,
Gregory Isaacs,
Los Fastidios,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Pretty Things,
Dawn Penn,
CMW,
The Golliwogs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Colin Newman,
Tubeway Army,
Delta 5,
The Saints,
Eli Mardock,
Soul II Soul,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Flipper,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Minnie Riperton,
Alton Ellis,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.