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 Ecuador and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bobby Womack to the punk 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Pantytec,
Scratch Acid,
Quantec,
The Dirtbombs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Country Teasers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Fania All-Stars,
Popol Vuh,
Scan 7,
The Blackbyrds,
Johnny Osbourne,
Curtis Mayfield,
Leonard Cohen,
Cal Tjader,
Wings,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Searchers,
Glenn Branca,
Eddi Front,
Gang Starr,
The Fortunes,
Black Bananas,
Section 25,
Tommy Roe,
The Count Five,
Ossler,
Sixth Finger,
The Skatalites,
Ken Boothe,
Eve St. Jones,
Sam Rivers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ultra Naté,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rosa Yemen,
Outsiders,
Depeche Mode,
Funkadelic,
The Barracudas,
Kas Product,
MC5,
Michelle Simonal,
Moby Grape,
The Evens,
The Standells,
New Order,
Flash Fearless,
The Grass Roots,
The Knickerbockers,
Young Marble Giants,
Crispy Ambulance,
Severed Heads,
The Monochrome Set,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Angry Samoans,
Max Romeo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mantronix,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.