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 Belarus and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 harpsichord 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 Eli Mardock to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
U.S. Maple,
Monks,
Siglo XX,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lower 48,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Kinks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Yellowson,
Flash Fearless,
Fela Kuti,
Isaac Hayes,
The Wake,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Aaron Thompson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Warren Ellis,
K-Klass,
Aural Exciters,
The Pop Group,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ornette Coleman,
the Human League,
Sound Behaviour,
48th St. Collective,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Goldenarms,
The American Breed,
Colin Newman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Barry Ungar,
Arcadia,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Byron Stingily,
Gichy Dan,
F. McDonald,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marine Girls,
Sun Ra,
Boogie Down Productions,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
X-101,
Ten City,
Kurtis Blow,
Tears for Fears,
Motorama,
The Zeros,
Donny Hathaway,
Q and Not U,
Kenny Larkin,
Freddie Wadling,
Cluster,
Wolf Eyes,
Ludus,
Davy DMX,
The Gun Club,
Skarface,
Erykah Badu,
Soft Cell,
China Crisis,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.