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 Iraq and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 The Count Five to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar 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 rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Livin' Joy,
Mars,
Wasted Youth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pulsallama,
Pole,
Eddi Front,
Lindisfarne,
Underground Resistance,
Procol Harum,
Patti Smith,
Alton Ellis,
The Doobie Brothers,
Barry Ungar,
The Monks,
Josef K,
Mo-Dettes,
Q65,
LL Cool J,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Cure,
Blake Baxter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
ABBA,
Symarip,
June of 44,
The American Breed,
Arthur Verocai,
Soft Cell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Parry Music,
Television Personalities,
Marc Almond,
Index,
Scratch Acid,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Henry Cow,
Pere Ubu,
Wings,
Metal Thangz,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Yaz,
Icehouse,
Kaleidoscope,
Niagra,
In Retrospect,
Sonny Sharrock,
Deakin,
Massinfluence,
The Velvet Underground,
Radiohead,
The Seeds,
Bauhaus,
China Crisis,
Scientists,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Vladislav Delay,
Magma,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.