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 Djibouti and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Symarip to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
Excepter,
Rapeman,
Soft Machine,
Eurythmics,
Popol Vuh,
Lightning Bolt,
The Angels of Light,
Amon Düül II,
Banda Bassotti,
Drive Like Jehu,
Easy Going,
Deakin,
Eddi Front,
The Searchers,
EPMD,
Sparks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pere Ubu,
Lower 48,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Young Rascals,
Nirvana,
Rosa Yemen,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eli Mardock,
Lakeside,
Negative Approach,
Sight & Sound,
Jesper Dahlback,
JFA,
John Foxx,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Real Kids,
John Cale,
Glenn Branca,
Girls At Our Best!,
John Coltrane,
Japan,
ABBA,
Can,
Talk Talk,
Pussy Galore,
Toni Rubio,
Depeche Mode,
Matthew Halsall,
Quadrant,
Surgeon,
Suicide,
Sarah Menescal,
Bobby Womack,
Maurizio,
Hot Snakes,
Saccharine Trust,
Television Personalities,
Subhumans,
Roger Hodgson,
Hashim,
Godley & Creme,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.