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 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Malaria! to the grime 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sun Ra,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sparks,
Royal Trux,
the Swans,
L. Decosne,
48th St. Collective,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Section 25,
Newcleus,
The Leaves,
Q65,
8 Eyed Spy,
FM Einheit,
The Searchers,
Drexciya,
Blancmange,
Kool Moe Dee,
Chrome,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Dirtbombs,
F. McDonald,
The Saints,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Todd Rundgren,
The Pretty Things,
Pagans,
Soul II Soul,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Stetsasonic,
Echospace,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Neil Young,
The Offenders,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Roy Ayers,
Eric Dolphy,
Alison Limerick,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Barrington Levy,
E-Dancer,
Bob Dylan,
Adolescents,
Don Cherry,
Blake Baxter,
Zapp,
Bobby Womack,
Robert Hood,
Infiniti,
Cymande,
Juan Atkins,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nation of Ulysses,
Y Pants,
Ronnie Foster,
Banda Bassotti,
Yazoo,
Silicon Teens,
David Axelrod,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dead Boys,
Motorama,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.