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 Kuwait and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mexico City.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flash Fearless record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
The Red Krayola,
Eden Ahbez,
Wolf Eyes,
Tres Demented,
Eve St. Jones,
Urselle,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fat Boys,
Skarface,
Moby Grape,
The Index,
Bizarre Inc.,
Glenn Branca,
Harry Pussy,
Freddie Wadling,
The Vogues,
Gong,
Eddi Front,
Johnny Clarke,
Deadbeat,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
L. Decosne,
Mission of Burma,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Brothers Johnson,
Underground Resistance,
Bronski Beat,
Maurizio,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lalann,
Lalo Schifrin,
Toni Rubio,
Rod Modell,
Swell Maps,
Leonard Cohen,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Busters,
Pere Ubu,
June of 44,
Cal Tjader,
Sparks,
Harpers Bizarre,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Amon Düül II,
These Immortal Souls,
Donald Byrd,
China Crisis,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gun Club,
Smog,
Warren Ellis,
Buzzcocks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Patti Smith,
Heaven 17,
Quantec,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.