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 El Salvador and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe 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 Duran Duran to the crunk 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Tomorrow,
Swell Maps,
Stockholm Monsters,
Electric Prunes,
John Cale,
Alton Ellis,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Radio Birdman,
The Litter,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minnie Riperton,
The Residents,
Brick,
Laurel Aitken,
Max Romeo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Joe Finger,
Organ,
Jacques Brel,
Cymande,
David McCallum,
Reuben Wilson,
Scratch Acid,
The Raincoats,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mad Mike,
a-ha,
Thompson Twins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Anakelly,
Easy Going,
World's Most,
The Techniques,
Sight & Sound,
the Slits,
Rites of Spring,
F. McDonald,
Mr. Review,
The Alarm Clocks,
Arthur Verocai,
Loose Ends,
Shoche,
The Barracudas,
New Order,
The Beau Brummels,
Cybotron,
Michelle Simonal,
The Dead C,
The Martian,
The J.B.'s,
48th St. Collective,
The Detroit Cobras,
Procol Harum,
Spoonie Gee,
Accadde A,
Motorama,
Trumans Water,
Jeru the Damaja,
Visage,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.