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 Nigeria and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dead Boys to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
The Red Krayola,
Roxette,
Rakim,
Lungfish,
Don Cherry,
Nik Kershaw,
Marvin Gaye,
Hasil Adkins,
Popol Vuh,
Reuben Wilson,
Pole,
Roy Ayers,
Grey Daturas,
Man Parrish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jimmy McGriff,
Simply Red,
Chrome,
Heaven 17,
Newcleus,
10cc,
Donald Byrd,
Absolute Body Control,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Quadrant,
Eli Mardock,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Isaac Hayes,
X-Ray Spex,
Barbara Tucker,
the Sonics,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Star Department,
Marshall Jefferson,
China Crisis,
The Sonics,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Human League,
JFA,
PIL,
Dennis Brown,
LL Cool J,
Gong,
The Martian,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ronnie Foster,
Gichy Dan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Funky Four + One,
Hot Snakes,
Tommy Roe,
Wolf Eyes,
The Vogues,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Litter,
Rufus Thomas,
Mantronix,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.