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 Zambia and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin 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 Smog to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MC5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Connie Case,
Theoretical Girls,
Bob Dylan,
X-101,
Dark Day,
Fela Kuti,
Johnny Clarke,
Electric Prunes,
Bauhaus,
Rekid,
Cymande,
The Evens,
the Germs,
Tubeway Army,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultra Naté,
Sex Pistols,
Brick,
Ronnie Foster,
The Pop Group,
Deepchord,
Niagra,
Ludus,
Accadde A,
Funkadelic,
Nas,
Easy Going,
Toni Rubio,
Motorama,
The Leaves,
Gil Scott Heron,
Shuggie Otis,
Ken Boothe,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Motions,
Unrelated Segments,
Avey Tare,
8 Eyed Spy,
KRS-One,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Minutemen,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sight & Sound,
Agitation Free,
Joey Negro,
Gabor Szabo,
L. Decosne,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Yaz,
Suburban Knight,
The Knickerbockers,
Anakelly,
The Young Rascals,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Human League,
a-ha,
Agent Orange,
Pantytec,
The Techniques,
Parry Music,
Bizarre Inc.,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.