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 Namibia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ultra Naté to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Jerry's Kids,
Black Bananas,
David Bowie,
Pagans,
Sound Behaviour,
The Black Dice,
Crash Course in Science,
Average White Band,
Massinfluence,
OOIOO,
Crispy Ambulance,
Porter Ricks,
Rufus Thomas,
Sex Pistols,
The Velvet Underground,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Coltrane,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Urselle,
Intrusion,
Blossom Toes,
Byron Stingily,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Man Parrish,
Kayak,
Yellowson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Radio Birdman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Arab on Radar,
Bill Wells,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fuzztones,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Loose Ends,
Funkadelic,
the Normal,
Johnny Clarke,
Harry Pussy,
Quando Quango,
Tom Boy,
Subhumans,
The Fugs,
Aural Exciters,
Patti Smith,
the Swans,
Sällskapet,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Gories,
Con Funk Shun,
Little Man,
Franke,
Mary Jane Girls,
Scratch Acid,
Stockholm Monsters,
David McCallum,
The Raincoats,
Heaven 17,
Rekid,
MDC,
The Dirtbombs,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.