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 Benin and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Neil Young to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
The Saints,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Tremeloes,
The Selecter,
Procol Harum,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tomorrow,
Easy Going,
Man Parrish,
Rapeman,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Heaven 17,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cecil Taylor,
Mark Hollis,
Section 25,
Hashim,
Morten Harket,
Funkadelic,
The Kinks,
Don Cherry,
Yazoo,
Todd Rundgren,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sarah Menescal,
Kenny Larkin,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Bananas,
The Moody Blues,
Organ,
Gregory Isaacs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lungfish,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Johnny Clarke,
Crash Course in Science,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Index,
Bill Near,
AZ,
Andrew Hill,
Cal Tjader,
Harpers Bizarre,
EPMD,
Sällskapet,
Davy DMX,
Swell Maps,
Circle Jerks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tres Demented,
Cameo,
The Young Rascals,
Interpol,
Pussy Galore,
The Electric Prunes,
The Red Krayola,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.