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 Cambodia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the rock 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
The Velvet Underground,
Todd Rundgren,
John Holt,
Second Layer,
ABC,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Wake,
Nils Olav,
Letta Mbulu,
James White and The Blacks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Young Marble Giants,
Accadde A,
Amon Düül II,
The Count Five,
The Alarm Clocks,
Organ,
Yazoo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Blossom Toes,
Fad Gadget,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fat Boys,
Quantec,
Bobby Womack,
Lungfish,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dead Boys,
June of 44,
Quadrant,
Nick Fraelich,
Lalann,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minutemen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crash Course in Science,
Mary Jane Girls,
Robert Görl,
The Standells,
The Misunderstood,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kurtis Blow,
the Germs,
Thee Headcoats,
Joy Division,
Scion,
The Blues Magoos,
The Barracudas,
Piero Umiliani,
Japan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cluster,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Slits,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Angels of Light,
Magazine,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.