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 Liberia and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
The Motions,
Ludus,
Spoonie Gee,
the Slits,
Vainqueur,
Gang Green,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kayak,
Von Mondo,
Brass Construction,
Urselle,
Joe Smooth,
Bobby Byrd,
Organ,
Jawbox,
Minutemen,
Porter Ricks,
Todd Rundgren,
The Seeds,
Tomorrow,
Fad Gadget,
Liliput,
Erasure,
Joe Finger,
Radiohead,
Suicide,
Boredoms,
Donald Byrd,
DNA,
Vladislav Delay,
Sparks,
Nas,
The Buckinghams,
Bronski Beat,
Kerri Chandler,
The Standells,
Sixth Finger,
Hashim,
The Saints,
Smog,
Mission of Burma,
New Age Steppers,
Visage,
Darondo,
The Cowsills,
Camberwell Now,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bobby Womack,
Soulsonic Force,
Pere Ubu,
The Dead C,
Chris & Cosey,
Graham Central Station,
Pierre Henry,
Yaz,
Gang of Four,
Monks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.