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 Qatar and from Calgary.
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 Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Suburban Knight,
Ronnie Foster,
Funkadelic,
Toni Rubio,
The Walker Brothers,
Erykah Badu,
Malaria!,
Hot Snakes,
Severed Heads,
Theoretical Girls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Radio Birdman,
Ludus,
The Five Americans,
Jawbox,
Barrington Levy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Donald Byrd,
Audionom,
Smog,
Metal Thangz,
Clear Light,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Excepter,
Pussy Galore,
Faust,
Mantronix,
Robert Wyatt,
Matthew Bourne,
Brass Construction,
Crispian St. Peters,
Don Cherry,
The Smoke,
Frankie Knuckles,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Black Flag,
Fela Kuti,
John Lydon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Oneida,
Bluetip,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Blues Magoos,
The Associates,
Kayak,
The Seeds,
Jerry's Kids,
Crime,
Moebius,
Davy DMX,
Q65,
the Association,
T. Rex,
Steve Hackett,
Kurtis Blow,
Isaac Hayes,
New Age Steppers,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
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.