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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Normal to the rap 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops 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 a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Neu!,
Bootsy Collins,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Anthony Braxton,
Scrapy,
Banda Bassotti,
Soft Machine,
Frankie Knuckles,
Brass Construction,
Sam Rivers,
The Real Kids,
Sun Ra,
James Chance & The Contortions,
E-Dancer,
New York Dolls,
Radio Birdman,
The New Christs,
The Doobie Brothers,
The United States of America,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Mojo Men,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pierre Henry,
Neil Young,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gang of Four,
Crooked Eye,
Eden Ahbez,
The Dirtbombs,
Alphaville,
The Last Poets,
Darondo,
Easy Going,
Dawn Penn,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Mummies,
Minny Pops,
Lalann,
Moby Grape,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Unrelated Segments,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Birthday Party,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sonic Youth,
Mr. Review,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pagans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Busters,
Heaven 17,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang Green,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Isaac Hayes,
Amon Düül,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.