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 Argentina and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 theremin 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 Country Teasers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
The Count Five,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Prince Buster,
Dual Sessions,
Rod Modell,
the Swans,
Alice Coltrane,
The Knickerbockers,
Silicon Teens,
The Invisible,
The Star Department,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Durutti Column,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Q and Not U,
The Moody Blues,
Supertramp,
Skriet,
Brass Construction,
Roxette,
Matthew Bourne,
In Retrospect,
The Names,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Man Parrish,
Yaz,
Popol Vuh,
June Days,
X-Ray Spex,
Hashim,
The Divine Comedy,
Minnie Riperton,
Pulsallama,
The Cramps,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pussy Galore,
Marmalade,
The Shadows of Knight,
Loose Ends,
Andrew Hill,
David Bowie,
Joy Division,
Sight & Sound,
Pet Shop Boys,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Porter Ricks,
Harry Pussy,
Aaron Thompson,
Arthur Verocai,
Ronnie Foster,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Warren Ellis,
Yazoo,
MDC,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
LL Cool J,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Index,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.