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 Korea North 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 guitar 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 kango's stein massive to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Suicide,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Massinfluence,
Skarface,
Roxette,
Motorama,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fela Kuti,
Cymande,
Shoche,
Qualms,
The Tremeloes,
Malaria!,
Accadde A,
Pierre Henry,
The Moleskins,
Vainqueur,
Banda Bassotti,
Reagan Youth,
Infiniti,
Big Daddy Kane,
Von Mondo,
Radiohead,
Roger Hodgson,
Stereo Dub,
Hashim,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Q and Not U,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eric Dolphy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Intrusion,
Joyce Sims,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scan 7,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Joe Finger,
Japan,
Toni Rubio,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Kinks,
Agent Orange,
Oneida,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Minor Threat,
Unwound,
The Searchers,
a-ha,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Aaron Thompson,
The Remains,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Electric Prunes,
Ten City,
Peter & Gordon,
Lou Reed,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White 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.