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 Netherlands 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 Toronto and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Joe Smooth to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Saccharine Trust,
a-ha,
The Human League,
KRS-One,
DJ Style,
Eli Mardock,
Ludus,
The Flesh Eaters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Reuben Wilson,
Audionom,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
U.S. Maple,
Smog,
Fad Gadget,
Fluxion,
L. Decosne,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Colin Newman,
Donald Byrd,
Erasure,
The Knickerbockers,
Barrington Levy,
Derrick May,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Unrelated Segments,
MDC,
Alice Coltrane,
Ornette Coleman,
Outsiders,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Moody Blues,
Make Up,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fort Wilson Riot,
T. Rex,
Deadbeat,
Franke,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Trojans,
Pantaleimon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Black Flag,
Can,
Mars,
Black Bananas,
Bauhaus,
The Dead C,
Hasil Adkins,
Hardrive,
the Swans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Shuggie Otis,
Black Sheep,
Stereo Dub,
Malaria!,
The Residents,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.