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 Burkina and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Quantec to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
a-ha,
Rod Modell,
PIL,
Unwound,
Ituana,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Star Department,
Peter & Gordon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Archie Shepp,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobby Womack,
Section 25,
Dead Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
Hoover,
Fluxion,
48th St. Collective,
Cal Tjader,
Piero Umiliani,
Banda Bassotti,
The Modern Lovers,
The Moody Blues,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Metal Thangz,
Siglo XX,
Blossom Toes,
The Tremeloes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Motorama,
Porter Ricks,
Chris Corsano,
Newcleus,
Sam Rivers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Slits,
Delon & Dalcan,
Animal Collective,
Tim Buckley,
Vladislav Delay,
Eric B and Rakim,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fuzztones,
Morten Harket,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Steve Hackett,
The Real Kids,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Names,
Kenny Larkin,
Derrick Morgan,
Con Funk Shun,
Nico,
Yellowson,
EPMD,
Monolake,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soft Machine,
Godley & Creme,
John Foxx,
DNA,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.