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 Palau 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Last Poets to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Robert Hood,
Y Pants,
Howard Jones,
Patti Smith,
Deakin,
The Selecter,
EPMD,
Dave Gahan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Wings,
cv313,
Anakelly,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Reagan Youth,
Arab on Radar,
Vainqueur,
Malaria!,
Tim Buckley,
Roy Ayers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lindisfarne,
Electric Prunes,
Fear,
The Zeros,
Laurel Aitken,
Whodini,
Tommy Roe,
Sister Nancy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Skriet,
Darondo,
Suicide,
Hot Snakes,
Toni Rubio,
Ossler,
X-Ray Spex,
Chris & Cosey,
Alphaville,
Marvin Gaye,
Popol Vuh,
Angry Samoans,
This Heat,
Technova,
Jerry's Kids,
Blake Baxter,
Marcia Griffiths,
Depeche Mode,
Cymande,
Suburban Knight,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Brand Nubian,
Donald Byrd,
Bronski Beat,
Funky Four + One,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Saccharine Trust,
Danielle Patucci,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Invisible,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.