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 Belarus and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the grime 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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Golliwogs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Trojans,
DJ Sneak,
The Sonics,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Maurizio,
Lightning Bolt,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Cure,
Monolake,
Altered Images,
ABC,
The Monochrome Set,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Schoolly D,
Lower 48,
Mo-Dettes,
The Moleskins,
Sandy B,
Crooked Eye,
Minnie Riperton,
Sällskapet,
Stereo Dub,
This Heat,
The Litter,
Pole,
Qualms,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Donald Byrd,
Joey Negro,
Mark Hollis,
Harpers Bizarre,
EPMD,
The Standells,
Letta Mbulu,
Gong,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marmalade,
Section 25,
Bill Wells,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Association,
Brass Construction,
Sparks,
Brothers Johnson,
Fugazi,
The Cowsills,
KRS-One,
Glenn Branca,
Junior Murvin,
Tom Boy,
Al Stewart,
The Offenders,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Shuggie Otis,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Massinfluence,
The Names,
Man Parrish,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.