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 Nigeria and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the grime 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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Funkadelic,
Carl Craig,
Blancmange,
The Mummies,
Robert Hood,
Qualms,
Byron Stingily,
Sister Nancy,
Johnny Clarke,
Michelle Simonal,
8 Eyed Spy,
Skriet,
Maleditus Sound,
The Electric Prunes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cheater Slicks,
Rites of Spring,
The Knickerbockers,
Royal Trux,
The Cowsills,
Skaos,
Whodini,
Danielle Patucci,
Traffic Nightmare,
Slick Rick,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Delon & Dalcan,
Yazoo,
Newcleus,
Gil Scott Heron,
Livin' Joy,
T. Rex,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Steve Hackett,
Eddi Front,
X-Ray Spex,
The Monochrome Set,
The Cramps,
Avey Tare,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scion,
The Monks,
Lou Christie,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bad Manners,
Barrington Levy,
Icehouse,
The Golliwogs,
Joensuu 1685,
Dual Sessions,
The Music Machine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mission of Burma,
Suicide,
Schoolly D,
Alton Ellis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Camouflage,
New York Dolls,
a-ha,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.