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 Philadelphia.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Anthony Braxton to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
The Cosmic Jokers,
In Retrospect,
The Mojo Men,
the Slits,
Davy DMX,
Brand Nubian,
Tomorrow,
Amazonics,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Prince Buster,
MC5,
Inner City,
E-Dancer,
Marc Almond,
Ossler,
The Names,
The Golliwogs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Cure,
Visage,
Deepchord,
Rites of Spring,
Avey Tare,
Sound Behaviour,
Yaz,
Fatback Band,
The Buckinghams,
X-101,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Public Enemy,
The Seeds,
Lucky Dragons,
Neil Young,
The Walker Brothers,
The Divine Comedy,
Brothers Johnson,
Dual Sessions,
Main Source,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Count Five,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Das Ding,
Reagan Youth,
Lower 48,
Blancmange,
Alison Limerick,
The Grass Roots,
T.S.O.L.,
Sun City Girls,
Soft Cell,
The Cramps,
Fluxion,
The Monks,
Quando Quango,
Wire,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.