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 India and from Edmonton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin 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 Mandrill to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Nico,
Faust,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ten City,
The Seeds,
Fela Kuti,
Crash Course in Science,
Porter Ricks,
Y Pants,
Ice-T,
Ludus,
New York Dolls,
Radio Birdman,
Little Man,
Rod Modell,
Vladislav Delay,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fortunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
MDC,
Scion,
Funkadelic,
Audionom,
The Neon Judgement,
Pylon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cal Tjader,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Niagra,
KRS-One,
AZ,
Cybotron,
Ronan,
The Leaves,
Warsaw,
The Barracudas,
Junior Murvin,
Stockholm Monsters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Deadbeat,
Bob Dylan,
Pantaleimon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Flash Fearless,
Lindisfarne,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Anakelly,
Bobby Sherman,
Q and Not U,
Donald Byrd,
Marmalade,
Faraquet,
Aaron Thompson,
Spandau Ballet,
Tres Demented,
Toni Rubio,
Rotary Connection,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.