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 Comoros and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Offenders,
Dual Sessions,
The Mummies,
Boz Scaggs,
Dark Day,
Juan Atkins,
Terry Callier,
Minutemen,
The Monochrome Set,
The Slits,
La Düsseldorf,
the Soft Cell,
Leonard Cohen,
Tomorrow,
Bush Tetras,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Hasil Adkins,
The Blues Magoos,
Dead Boys,
Morten Harket,
Can,
Sparks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Slits,
Franke,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Victims,
Das Ding,
Althea and Donna,
Panda Bear,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cramps,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cybotron,
Pantaleimon,
The Pop Group,
Mad Mike,
Nas,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Fear,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pussy Galore,
Matthew Halsall,
The Smoke,
The Names,
Avey Tare,
The Techniques,
Suburban Knight,
Mars,
Tears for Fears,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Severed Heads,
Y Pants,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Laurel Aitken,
Essential Logic,
Young Marble Giants,
Public Enemy,
The Martian,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.