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 Bhutan and from Portland.
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 Spokane and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Visage to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Lou Reed,
EPMD,
Pagans,
Warsaw,
The Flesh Eaters,
PIL,
Procol Harum,
The Dead C,
Mary Jane Girls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Residents,
Sandy B,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ken Boothe,
Colin Newman,
Angry Samoans,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sun City Girls,
Aural Exciters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Roy Ayers,
Drexciya,
Dorothy Ashby,
Outsiders,
Can,
Minutemen,
Excepter,
Charles Mingus,
Gong,
the Bar-Kays,
Oneida,
Fugazi,
Pussy Galore,
Iggy Pop,
Swell Maps,
David McCallum,
Cybotron,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Divine Comedy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Yusef Lateef,
Cecil Taylor,
Lakeside,
Rufus Thomas,
Babytalk,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Desert Stars,
Godley & Creme,
The Star Department,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Litter,
The Cramps,
Kayak,
Adolescents,
Arcadia,
Jandek,
Schoolly D,
Neu!,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Stockholm Monsters,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel, Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel, Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel, Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel.
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.