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 Guyana and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sonics to the crunk 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 Soul II Soul. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
MC5,
Flamin' Groovies,
Talk Talk,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Remains,
Zapp,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gang Starr,
Flash Fearless,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Radiopuhelimet,
Archie Shepp,
Bobby Sherman,
Anthony Braxton,
kango's stein massive,
John Lydon,
The Dave Clark Five,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mark Hollis,
Sparks,
The Trojans,
Magazine,
Moss Icon,
Black Flag,
Depeche Mode,
The Leaves,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sandy B,
The Young Rascals,
Fatback Band,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Blues Magoos,
Lungfish,
Quando Quango,
Scion,
Man Eating Sloth,
New York Dolls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Iggy Pop,
Rakim,
Arcadia,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Cure,
Deepchord,
Grey Daturas,
Derrick Morgan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Soul II Soul,
Pussy Galore,
X-Ray Spex,
The Associates,
Susan Cadogan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
ABBA,
Kurtis Blow,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
EPMD,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.