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 Cameroon and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 oboe 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 Pagans to the grime 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Sexual Harrassment,
Interpol,
China Crisis,
The Seeds,
Quando Quango,
Barrington Levy,
Adolescents,
Nils Olav,
Second Layer,
The Fuzztones,
The Smoke,
Bobby Byrd,
the Normal,
Matthew Halsall,
Average White Band,
Lightning Bolt,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sparks,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Motions,
Barry Ungar,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Blackbyrds,
Gastr Del Sol,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Simply Red,
Delta 5,
Scan 7,
Aaron Thompson,
Dawn Penn,
The Raincoats,
Monks,
Lakeside,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eddi Front,
Sugar Minott,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Dennis Brown,
The United States of America,
Stetsasonic,
Marmalade,
Eden Ahbez,
The Leaves,
The Fall,
The Grass Roots,
These Immortal Souls,
Hot Snakes,
The Music Machine,
Barclay James Harvest,
T.S.O.L.,
The Names,
Grey Daturas,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Beau Brummels,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eve St. Jones,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Gun Club,
Joy Division,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.