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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Brick to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Joy Division,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Althea and Donna,
The Moody Blues,
Hashim,
Radiohead,
Deadbeat,
Lee Hazlewood,
Hoover,
The Offenders,
Das Ding,
Fad Gadget,
New York Dolls,
Albert Ayler,
Simply Red,
10cc,
The Wake,
Black Sheep,
Tears for Fears,
Judy Mowatt,
World's Most,
Lyres,
Brick,
Barrington Levy,
The Index,
CMW,
Whodini,
Kenny Larkin,
Kevin Saunderson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Roxette,
The Black Dice,
Marine Girls,
Bronski Beat,
Ultimate Spinach,
ABBA,
New Age Steppers,
Ultravox,
Public Enemy,
Lakeside,
Eve St. Jones,
The Beau Brummels,
Metal Thangz,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Symarip,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nick Fraelich,
Angry Samoans,
The Remains,
Delon & Dalcan,
Susan Cadogan,
Donald Byrd,
The Moleskins,
the Swans,
Inner City,
Deepchord,
Dead Boys,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Star Department,
Minnie Riperton,
Toni Rubio,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.