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 Swaziland and from Calgary.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jesper Dahlback to the grunge 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Lou Christie,
Livin' Joy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Trumans Water,
Maurizio,
Delta 5,
Marc Almond,
Bill Near,
Minor Threat,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bad Manners,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Black Flag,
Scan 7,
Johnny Osbourne,
Donald Byrd,
FM Einheit,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Doors,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Seeds,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sun City Girls,
Stiv Bators,
This Heat,
Outsiders,
Laurel Aitken,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lungfish,
Michelle Simonal,
Adolescents,
The Golliwogs,
Second Layer,
The Happenings,
Malaria!,
MC5,
The Smiths,
Lindisfarne,
Chrome,
China Crisis,
Blancmange,
Qualms,
Man Parrish,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rotary Connection,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Saccharine Trust,
The Durutti Column,
Animal Collective,
Heaven 17,
The Birthday Party,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang Starr,
The Monochrome Set,
Lightning Bolt,
Sparks,
Average White Band,
Fad Gadget,
Peter & Gordon,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.