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 Burundi and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Alphaville to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Doors,
a-ha,
T. Rex,
Tres Demented,
In Retrospect,
Grandmaster Flash,
Oneida,
Crash Course in Science,
Hoover,
Schoolly D,
F. McDonald,
Ultravox,
Das Ding,
Junior Murvin,
Mo-Dettes,
Cal Tjader,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lightning Bolt,
Theoretical Girls,
Ossler,
Kevin Saunderson,
Erasure,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gang Starr,
Robert Hood,
Lalann,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Blancmange,
Drive Like Jehu,
Funky Four + One,
Bill Near,
Eddi Front,
Lower 48,
Rekid,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Sonics,
Lakeside,
The J.B.'s,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Grauzone,
Joe Finger,
Dual Sessions,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
James White and The Blacks,
Guru Guru,
Second Layer,
PIL,
Harry Pussy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Silicon Teens,
Blake Baxter,
Blossom Toes,
Adolescents,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ronnie Foster,
The Beau Brummels,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.