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 Afghanistan and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Monks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Real Kids,
Malaria!,
Scrapy,
Patti Smith,
Scott Walker,
Glenn Branca,
Bootsy Collins,
The Invisible,
Wire,
New York Dolls,
Zapp,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mr. Review,
Amazonics,
Severed Heads,
Sixth Finger,
Pierre Henry,
Swell Maps,
Morten Harket,
Nik Kershaw,
Dark Day,
Quando Quango,
UT,
Crooked Eye,
The Electric Prunes,
The Black Dice,
Bill Wells,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Television Personalities,
Average White Band,
The Smoke,
The Buckinghams,
Kenny Larkin,
World's Most,
Public Enemy,
Prince Buster,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Blossom Toes,
Arthur Verocai,
Johnny Clarke,
Maurizio,
Aswad,
Pussy Galore,
Ornette Coleman,
The Golliwogs,
The Mojo Men,
Pulsallama,
Slave,
Gang Starr,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Fugs,
The J.B.'s,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Velvet Underground,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Modern Lovers,
Panda Bear,
X-102,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.