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 Nicaragua and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro 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 Television to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
B.T. Express,
Dave Gahan,
F. McDonald,
Swell Maps,
Gichy Dan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Malaria!,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The United States of America,
Boogie Down Productions,
Donald Byrd,
Faust,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Suicide,
Michelle Simonal,
Eric Dolphy,
Mo-Dettes,
Eric Copeland,
Amazonics,
Grauzone,
Nik Kershaw,
Desert Stars,
Rod Modell,
Cymande,
Minnie Riperton,
Aaron Thompson,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jacques Brel,
Amon Düül II,
Isaac Hayes,
Moss Icon,
Aloha Tigers,
LL Cool J,
Judy Mowatt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Barracudas,
The Red Krayola,
Spoonie Gee,
Todd Terry,
Can,
ABC,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobby Sherman,
The Seeds,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pole,
Buzzcocks,
Gang Green,
Chris Corsano,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dark Day,
KRS-One,
Ronnie Foster,
Max Romeo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.