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 Samoa and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Blues Magoos to the electroclash 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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
Kenny Larkin,
the Bar-Kays,
Deepchord,
Tears for Fears,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Moss Icon,
Tomorrow,
Gang Gang Dance,
Accadde A,
Sun City Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jeff Lynne,
Spandau Ballet,
Livin' Joy,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sexual Harrassment,
Liliput,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pole,
Faraquet,
Guru Guru,
Black Sheep,
Thompson Twins,
Monolake,
The Red Krayola,
Black Pus,
Hashim,
Donald Byrd,
Aloha Tigers,
Maleditus Sound,
Siglo XX,
The Fuzztones,
Sixth Finger,
Skarface,
Technova,
Vainqueur,
Arab on Radar,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gang Starr,
Franke,
Babytalk,
The Mojo Men,
Theoretical Girls,
Second Layer,
Mission of Burma,
Lower 48,
The Skatalites,
Stereo Dub,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gang of Four,
Shuggie Otis,
Pylon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Radio Birdman,
John Lydon,
Yazoo,
JFA,
Scan 7,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.