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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Silicon Teens to the disco 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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Public Enemy,
Siglo XX,
Mr. Review,
Mars,
Glambeats Corp.,
Black Sheep,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The J.B.'s,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Skriet,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gang Green,
Tim Buckley,
Dark Day,
The Fire Engines,
Sugar Minott,
Michelle Simonal,
Ultravox,
Man Eating Sloth,
Aural Exciters,
Saccharine Trust,
Pulsallama,
Joe Smooth,
Depeche Mode,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hardrive,
Ronan,
In Retrospect,
Pere Ubu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Selecter,
The Sound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Thee Headcoats,
Japan,
Desert Stars,
The Sonics,
Avey Tare,
Bobby Sherman,
Al Stewart,
Colin Newman,
Deepchord,
Ten City,
Jacob Miller,
Sonny Sharrock,
Aloha Tigers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Spoonie Gee,
Little Man,
Clear Light,
The Grass Roots,
Hot Snakes,
Maleditus Sound,
Scan 7,
Dawn Penn,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Harmonia,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.