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 Paraguay and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 808 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 Scan 7 to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Alison Limerick,
Big Daddy Kane,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Jawbox,
Rites of Spring,
Khruangbin,
Loose Ends,
Black Moon,
Theoretical Girls,
Buzzcocks,
The Neon Judgement,
Alton Ellis,
The Black Dice,
Jerry's Kids,
Jeff Mills,
The Beau Brummels,
Blake Baxter,
The Velvet Underground,
Dead Boys,
The Victims,
Pere Ubu,
The Young Rascals,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Funkadelic,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fear,
Soft Cell,
The Saints,
Neil Young,
Animal Collective,
Smog,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lou Christie,
Sound Behaviour,
Bobby Womack,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Althea and Donna,
The Leaves,
Zero Boys,
Stereo Dub,
The Gap Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Barry Ungar,
Funky Four + One,
Roger Hodgson,
Blossom Toes,
Derrick May,
The Blues Magoos,
The Pop Group,
Young Marble Giants,
Susan Cadogan,
Arthur Verocai,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mr. Review,
Ten City,
Guru Guru,
Sun City Girls,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.