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 St Lucia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 The Misunderstood to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
LL Cool J,
Absolute Body Control,
The Electric Prunes,
the Sonics,
MDC,
Blake Baxter,
Idris Muhammad,
John Cale,
New Order,
The Mummies,
The Busters,
Iggy Pop,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Index,
Ten City,
Desert Stars,
Juan Atkins,
Parry Music,
Bronski Beat,
Susan Cadogan,
Charles Mingus,
Simply Red,
Sällskapet,
Deadbeat,
Rosa Yemen,
Al Stewart,
Delon & Dalcan,
Howard Jones,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tommy Roe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
B.T. Express,
The J.B.'s,
Average White Band,
The Knickerbockers,
Ultravox,
Eric B and Rakim,
Young Marble Giants,
Rekid,
David Bowie,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tres Demented,
the Germs,
Supertramp,
T. Rex,
Sam Rivers,
Porter Ricks,
Connie Case,
Lou Christie,
Unwound,
Johnny Clarke,
Yusef Lateef,
Sexual Harrassment,
Arcadia,
Bootsy Collins,
Goldenarms,
Kenny Larkin,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.