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 Macedonia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Grandmaster Flash to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
F. McDonald,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Real Kids,
Crime,
Banda Bassotti,
Glenn Branca,
Khruangbin,
Harmonia,
Aloha Tigers,
Siglo XX,
Bad Manners,
Rhythm & Sound,
John Lydon,
Todd Rundgren,
Ice-T,
Basic Channel,
The Durutti Column,
Joyce Sims,
Lower 48,
Skarface,
Youth Brigade,
China Crisis,
The Last Poets,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roxette,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Modern Lovers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Soft Machine,
Robert Hood,
Soft Cell,
Gong,
Connie Case,
Cymande,
Eric Dolphy,
Shuggie Otis,
The Fuzztones,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Delon & Dalcan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Erykah Badu,
Pole,
Kaleidoscope,
Groovy Waters,
Yazoo,
Spandau Ballet,
Erasure,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Searchers,
X-101,
Circle Jerks,
R.M.O.,
Inner City,
New York Dolls,
Josef K,
Skriet,
Peter and Kerry,
Eve St. Jones,
The Electric Prunes,
Y Pants,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.