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 Greece and from Edmonton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Outsiders to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
The Remains,
The Selecter,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
EPMD,
Black Moon,
Hoover,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jawbox,
Liliput,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ossler,
DNA,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Crime,
The Vogues,
Joy Division,
DJ Style,
Albert Ayler,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Motions,
The Durutti Column,
Idris Muhammad,
Sparks,
Wolf Eyes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Neu!,
H. Thieme,
Todd Rundgren,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Television Personalities,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gil Scott Heron,
Girls At Our Best!,
Y Pants,
The Walker Brothers,
The J.B.'s,
Sandy B,
Jandek,
Desert Stars,
Symarip,
The Gun Club,
Marmalade,
L. Decosne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lalo Schifrin,
E-Dancer,
Aural Exciters,
The Zeros,
Joensuu 1685,
The Detroit Cobras,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fat Boys,
Ultravox,
Royal Trux,
Trumans Water,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gang Green,
Letta Mbulu,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.