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 China and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Ossler,
Rekid,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Modern Lovers,
Sandy B,
Kaleidoscope,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Niagra,
Hot Snakes,
Vladislav Delay,
Junior Murvin,
UT,
Swans,
The Walker Brothers,
Letta Mbulu,
Ituana,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Supertramp,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fire Engines,
The Invisible,
Barrington Levy,
David Axelrod,
Tom Boy,
Au Pairs,
The Five Americans,
Andrew Hill,
F. McDonald,
Roxette,
Outsiders,
The Durutti Column,
The Cowsills,
The Gun Club,
Kas Product,
Adolescents,
Aswad,
Bang On A Can,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Howard Jones,
Brand Nubian,
Monolake,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gichy Dan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
James Chance & The Contortions,
8 Eyed Spy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mars,
Gang of Four,
Ten City,
Yaz,
Essential Logic,
Grey Daturas,
Easy Going,
Tim Buckley,
Terry Callier,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.