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 Mozambique and from Stockholm.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Dirtbombs to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
X-101,
The Modern Lovers,
Tom Boy,
Steve Hackett,
The Music Machine,
Dark Day,
Sällskapet,
Aaron Thompson,
Marmalade,
The Skatalites,
Erasure,
Roger Hodgson,
Ice-T,
Tubeway Army,
T. Rex,
The Vogues,
Roxy Music,
Masters at Work,
Brand Nubian,
Groovy Waters,
Stiv Bators,
The Index,
FM Einheit,
Davy DMX,
Quadrant,
Circle Jerks,
The Busters,
Cluster,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Shoche,
Charles Mingus,
Massinfluence,
Spoonie Gee,
Q65,
Oneida,
The Velvet Underground,
Arab on Radar,
Banda Bassotti,
Von Mondo,
Hashim,
The Fortunes,
Archie Shepp,
Scrapy,
Joyce Sims,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eric Copeland,
Barbara Tucker,
Technova,
Moby Grape,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jerry's Kids,
Amon Düül,
Unwound,
the Swans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Graham Central Station,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ronan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.