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 Nicaragua and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Brand Nubian to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Urselle,
June of 44,
Wasted Youth,
Chrome,
Joe Smooth,
Nils Olav,
Anthony Braxton,
Minor Threat,
Sarah Menescal,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Con Funk Shun,
Eddi Front,
Dave Gahan,
Gang Green,
The Fuzztones,
The Fall,
The Blackbyrds,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Swans,
Shoche,
Lucky Dragons,
The Birthday Party,
Public Enemy,
Piero Umiliani,
Arcadia,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Names,
Spandau Ballet,
This Heat,
The Last Poets,
Slave,
Junior Murvin,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scratch Acid,
Echospace,
Gabor Szabo,
Intrusion,
Schoolly D,
Isaac Hayes,
Smog,
Q and Not U,
The Moody Blues,
Darondo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Godley & Creme,
Gang Starr,
Livin' Joy,
John Cale,
Youth Brigade,
New York Dolls,
The Buckinghams,
Yazoo,
Faraquet,
Skaos,
Average White Band,
Interpol,
Jawbox,
Alton Ellis,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.