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 Colombia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Smoke 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Interpol,
Ronnie Foster,
Hardrive,
Kaleidoscope,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Neon Judgement,
Rapeman,
Lebanon Hanover,
Steve Hackett,
Flipper,
China Crisis,
The J.B.'s,
Rekid,
Althea and Donna,
Fad Gadget,
Drexciya,
Mandrill,
Eric Dolphy,
Crash Course in Science,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Fortunes,
Bobby Byrd,
Mantronix,
John Foxx,
DNA,
Deadbeat,
Electric Light Orchestra,
AZ,
Alice Coltrane,
The Knickerbockers,
Robert Hood,
Radio Birdman,
Porter Ricks,
The Evens,
Joe Smooth,
Harmonia,
Sight & Sound,
Wolf Eyes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pole,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The American Breed,
Cameo,
Aaron Thompson,
Man Parrish,
Ralphi Rosario,
Delta 5,
The Fugs,
The Cowsills,
Metal Thangz,
The Electric Prunes,
Morten Harket,
Altered Images,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roy Ayers,
Stetsasonic,
Bush Tetras,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.