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 Suriname and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the grunge 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Kool Moe Dee,
Whodini,
Warsaw,
Bob Dylan,
Rufus Thomas,
Pet Shop Boys,
Chris & Cosey,
Metal Thangz,
Marvin Gaye,
Chrome,
Sugar Minott,
Cheater Slicks,
Godley & Creme,
Kurtis Blow,
Marine Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
The Mojo Men,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Quantec,
Skriet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Suburban Knight,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kaleidoscope,
Drexciya,
Soft Machine,
The Trojans,
JFA,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Motions,
Lungfish,
Derrick Morgan,
The Cure,
Scrapy,
U.S. Maple,
Wasted Youth,
Eden Ahbez,
Television Personalities,
Shoche,
Lebanon Hanover,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fear,
Faraquet,
The Smiths,
Erykah Badu,
Reuben Wilson,
The Slackers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Outsiders,
The Tremeloes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Joe Smooth,
Ice-T,
Amon Düül,
Tommy Roe,
Nico,
Glenn Branca,
Bang On A Can,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nirvana,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.