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 Gabon and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Barrington Levy to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Inner City,
Chrome,
Kevin Saunderson,
Suicide,
B.T. Express,
Goldenarms,
Freddie Wadling,
The Walker Brothers,
The Birthday Party,
Byron Stingily,
The Standells,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Saints,
Derrick Morgan,
Kenny Larkin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Malaria!,
Suburban Knight,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rotary Connection,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sparks,
John Lydon,
LL Cool J,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sugar Minott,
Ultravox,
Sex Pistols,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cecil Taylor,
Donald Byrd,
Anthony Braxton,
Crash Course in Science,
Rod Modell,
Roy Ayers,
Warren Ellis,
Dave Gahan,
F. McDonald,
Nico,
Swans,
Graham Central Station,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Pus,
Easy Going,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Leonard Cohen,
KRS-One,
Al Stewart,
Connie Case,
DNA,
Grey Daturas,
Trumans Water,
Youth Brigade,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Mojo Men,
Fear,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scratch Acid,
Ronnie Foster,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Faust,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.