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 Costa Rica and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord 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 Camouflage to the rock 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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Warren Ellis,
The Seeds,
The Evens,
Howard Jones,
Average White Band,
H. Thieme,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Slits,
Negative Approach,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Groovy Waters,
Depeche Mode,
Pantaleimon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
Yellowson,
Robert Wyatt,
Japan,
Fad Gadget,
Monolake,
T.S.O.L.,
Iggy Pop,
Tropical Tobacco,
Blake Baxter,
Toni Rubio,
Procol Harum,
Joe Smooth,
Amazonics,
The Red Krayola,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sun City Girls,
Reuben Wilson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Gap Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Malaria!,
Skaos,
Lou Christie,
the Bar-Kays,
Dead Boys,
Siglo XX,
AZ,
Lee Hazlewood,
Letta Mbulu,
Patti Smith,
the Sonics,
Marcia Griffiths,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eli Mardock,
Derrick Morgan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Blackbyrds,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sparks,
The Busters,
Carl Craig,
Lakeside,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.