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 Guinea and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lou Reed to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Busters. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Roxette,
Jacob Miller,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rites of Spring,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Stiv Bators,
The Vogues,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Wake,
Bobby Sherman,
Eve St. Jones,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Brick,
Sister Nancy,
Ice-T,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Heaven 17,
Shuggie Otis,
Camouflage,
Blossom Toes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Davy DMX,
Suicide,
Cheater Slicks,
The Last Poets,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Warren Ellis,
Eddi Front,
Popol Vuh,
Young Marble Giants,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The American Breed,
Scan 7,
Albert Ayler,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eurythmics,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Blues Magoos,
Marc Almond,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Severed Heads,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eric Dolphy,
Peter and Kerry,
Black Bananas,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Vladislav Delay,
Scientists,
Fugazi,
Zapp,
Amon Düül,
FM Einheit,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.