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 Kyrgyzstan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Lou Reed 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Depeche Mode,
Maurizio,
Eurythmics,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fear,
Maleditus Sound,
Gong,
Letta Mbulu,
Joensuu 1685,
The Move,
Can,
Eli Mardock,
Johnny Clarke,
Alice Coltrane,
Ossler,
Chris Corsano,
The Monks,
Massinfluence,
Dark Day,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nik Kershaw,
Susan Cadogan,
The Names,
Bill Wells,
Peter & Gordon,
Second Layer,
Duran Duran,
Sandy B,
Pole,
Gil Scott Heron,
Anthony Braxton,
The Techniques,
Deadbeat,
Barry Ungar,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Soft Cell,
Soft Machine,
LL Cool J,
Unrelated Segments,
Stiv Bators,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Fugs,
the Human League,
The Human League,
Sonic Youth,
Blancmange,
Henry Cow,
Grauzone,
Ornette Coleman,
Godley & Creme,
Crime,
Soulsonic Force,
Minutemen,
Lalo Schifrin,
10cc,
U.S. Maple,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tres Demented,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.