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 Laos 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 chamberlin 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb 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 Knickerbockers,
Fela Kuti,
Spandau Ballet,
Faraquet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Talk Talk,
U.S. Maple,
The Seeds,
Joensuu 1685,
Clear Light,
Michelle Simonal,
Chrome,
Barbara Tucker,
The Last Poets,
Soft Machine,
Unrelated Segments,
Jacques Brel,
Eric Copeland,
Parry Music,
The Dead C,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Matthew Halsall,
Sister Nancy,
Sex Pistols,
Monks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
KRS-One,
Organ,
The Saints,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Spoonie Gee,
Nils Olav,
The Standells,
Silicon Teens,
Ultravox,
Sonic Youth,
The Detroit Cobras,
Prince Buster,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jeru the Damaja,
Au Pairs,
Bobby Byrd,
The Motions,
The Cosmic Jokers,
X-102,
Das Ding,
The Kinks,
Zapp,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pere Ubu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
China Crisis,
Harmonia,
Ultra Naté,
Yaz,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Slits,
Cameo,
Royal Trux,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.