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 Romania and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator 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 Swell Maps to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Walker Brothers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Warren Ellis,
The Beau Brummels,
Grandmaster Flash,
Maurizio,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Human League,
Piero Umiliani,
Alphaville,
Shuggie Otis,
The Neon Judgement,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pussy Galore,
Fluxion,
Half Japanese,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roger Hodgson,
Nils Olav,
Subhumans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jacques Brel,
Howard Jones,
Ultimate Spinach,
Monolake,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Con Funk Shun,
Franke,
Yusef Lateef,
Slave,
Yazoo,
Das Ding,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dorothy Ashby,
Arab on Radar,
The Blackbyrds,
The Detroit Cobras,
Model 500,
Index,
Lyres,
The Smoke,
The Moody Blues,
Popol Vuh,
The Human League,
Joy Division,
The Buckinghams,
Fat Boys,
Tim Buckley,
Country Teasers,
Davy DMX,
Rufus Thomas,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.