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 Cameroon and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Archie Shepp to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Excepter,
Lungfish,
Delon & Dalcan,
Radio Birdman,
The Busters,
Barrington Levy,
Technova,
Blancmange,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ohio Players,
Simply Red,
Scratch Acid,
Man Eating Sloth,
Parry Music,
Desert Stars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Thee Headcoats,
Wasted Youth,
The Angels of Light,
Unwound,
Dual Sessions,
Susan Cadogan,
Animal Collective,
The Real Kids,
The Gun Club,
Malaria!,
Swans,
EPMD,
Pylon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sam Rivers,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Normal,
The Happenings,
Ituana,
Agent Orange,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Walker Brothers,
L. Decosne,
Duran Duran,
The Wake,
Gerry Rafferty,
Isaac Hayes,
Derrick May,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Peter & Gordon,
Fugazi,
Agitation Free,
X-Ray Spex,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cal Tjader,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rufus Thomas,
Morten Harket,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ten City,
Don Cherry,
F. McDonald,
Kool Moe Dee,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.