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 Liechtenstein and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Brothers Johnson to the techno 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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Al Stewart,
Hot Snakes,
Mad Mike,
Malaria!,
Black Sheep,
Banda Bassotti,
John Coltrane,
The Young Rascals,
The Slackers,
Tom Boy,
The Five Americans,
Moby Grape,
Graham Central Station,
Vainqueur,
John Holt,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Intrusion,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Electric Prunes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Masters at Work,
The Knickerbockers,
Fear,
the Normal,
Warsaw,
The Pretty Things,
Avey Tare,
The Happenings,
the Germs,
Lucky Dragons,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Outsiders,
Wasted Youth,
Clear Light,
Monks,
R.M.O.,
Scientists,
Skaos,
Sex Pistols,
The Flesh Eaters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Skarface,
Black Moon,
Niagra,
David McCallum,
The Dirtbombs,
Goldenarms,
Arcadia,
The Modern Lovers,
Zero Boys,
Inner City,
The Searchers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Popol Vuh,
Barrington Levy,
the Association,
Crispian St. Peters,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Cramps,
Sister Nancy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.