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 Bahrain and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ornette Coleman,
Zapp,
Bobby Sherman,
The Offenders,
Main Source,
Heaven 17,
Warsaw,
The Residents,
Alison Limerick,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cluster,
Avey Tare,
Television,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Duran Duran,
Tommy Roe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harry Pussy,
Blake Baxter,
Lower 48,
Darondo,
Monks,
Sparks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Young Marble Giants,
Todd Rundgren,
Flipper,
Faust,
The Pretty Things,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pole,
Babytalk,
Tomorrow,
Gang Gang Dance,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Birthday Party,
The Move,
Sam Rivers,
Erykah Badu,
Los Fastidios,
The Electric Prunes,
Sight & Sound,
Robert Hood,
Mary Jane Girls,
Steve Hackett,
Lucky Dragons,
Quantec,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lalo Schifrin,
China Crisis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Vogues,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Blues Magoos,
Scrapy,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.