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 Ghana and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lalann 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Gichy Dan,
Roy Ayers,
David Bowie,
Minutemen,
Derrick Morgan,
Spoonie Gee,
Barrington Levy,
Urselle,
The Pretty Things,
Scott Walker,
The Dave Clark Five,
Schoolly D,
Swans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Young Marble Giants,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Newcleus,
Lee Hazlewood,
Harry Pussy,
One Last Wish,
Flipper,
John Holt,
The Saints,
Darondo,
ABC,
Whodini,
Make Up,
Terrestrial Tones,
Quantec,
Crooked Eye,
Carl Craig,
Bang On A Can,
Radiopuhelimet,
Blancmange,
Pole,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Japan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Reagan Youth,
The Victims,
Jacques Brel,
Minnie Riperton,
DJ Sneak,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jandek,
Rakim,
Alison Limerick,
The Young Rascals,
Parry Music,
A Certain Ratio,
The United States of America,
Warsaw,
The Fall,
Television,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Real Kids,
The Names,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.