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 Tunisia and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 Scan 7 to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Barrington Levy,
New York Dolls,
Ornette Coleman,
Tim Buckley,
CMW,
Dennis Brown,
Ice-T,
Harmonia,
Vainqueur,
Spandau Ballet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Inner City,
Harry Pussy,
Scientists,
Rhythm & Sound,
Toni Rubio,
a-ha,
Sparks,
Scan 7,
the Normal,
Urselle,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
This Heat,
Trumans Water,
Bluetip,
Half Japanese,
Aaron Thompson,
Junior Murvin,
Howard Jones,
The Stooges,
Adolescents,
Pole,
Section 25,
Clear Light,
Nils Olav,
Groovy Waters,
Amon Düül II,
Donny Hathaway,
The Tremeloes,
Archie Shepp,
Boz Scaggs,
Lou Reed,
Babytalk,
Monks,
Skriet,
the Bar-Kays,
Rakim,
Gichy Dan,
Bob Dylan,
Slick Rick,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cluster,
X-Ray Spex,
Brass Construction,
the Slits,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eyeless In Gaza,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.