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 Andorra and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manila.
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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Deadbeat to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Banda Bassotti,
John Foxx,
Unwound,
Connie Case,
Rites of Spring,
Traffic Nightmare,
China Crisis,
Idris Muhammad,
Harmonia,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Slits,
Graham Central Station,
Lalann,
Brand Nubian,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
T.S.O.L.,
Freddie Wadling,
The Techniques,
Quadrant,
Gang of Four,
The Black Dice,
Ken Boothe,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Depeche Mode,
Yazoo,
Buzzcocks,
The Cure,
Basic Channel,
Colin Newman,
The Happenings,
Visage,
Lightning Bolt,
Organ,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Glenn Branca,
Niagra,
Marc Almond,
Mr. Review,
John Lydon,
The Misunderstood,
Faraquet,
Brick,
Gabor Szabo,
The Toasters,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Divine Comedy,
Siglo XX,
The American Breed,
Newcleus,
The Victims,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Dead Boys,
The Golliwogs,
Agent Orange,
Crispian St. Peters,
Robert Hood,
Nick Fraelich,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.