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 United Kingdom and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar 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 Goldenarms to the crunk 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a It's A Beautiful Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
Heaven 17,
Bluetip,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
cv313,
Swell Maps,
Anthony Braxton,
Deakin,
The Modern Lovers,
The Busters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lightning Bolt,
Jeff Lynne,
Susan Cadogan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
K-Klass,
The Alarm Clocks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Franke,
Cybotron,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Saints,
Jawbox,
The Index,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cecil Taylor,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nico,
48th St. Collective,
Banda Bassotti,
Buzzcocks,
Kerri Chandler,
Lou Christie,
Brothers Johnson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scrapy,
Moss Icon,
The Selecter,
Brass Construction,
Fluxion,
Visage,
Darondo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Archie Shepp,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Oblivians,
Interpol,
The Red Krayola,
Isaac Hayes,
The Toasters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Robert Hood,
the Normal,
Aural Exciters,
David McCallum,
Delta 5,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.