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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Names to the dance 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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
The Searchers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ornette Coleman,
The Victims,
Harpers Bizarre,
Maleditus Sound,
Vladislav Delay,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mandrill,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Circle Jerks,
Bronski Beat,
The New Christs,
Easy Going,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Raincoats,
Yusef Lateef,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultimate Spinach,
Reuben Wilson,
R.M.O.,
Sandy B,
Theoretical Girls,
Godley & Creme,
Massinfluence,
The Real Kids,
The Gories,
The Toasters,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kerri Chandler,
U.S. Maple,
Skriet,
Pharoah Sanders,
Arthur Verocai,
Ponytail,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Throbbing Gristle,
In Retrospect,
Tubeway Army,
Marmalade,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Motorama,
The Dave Clark Five,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nik Kershaw,
Todd Rundgren,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Stooges,
Visage,
F. McDonald,
The Smiths,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rosa Yemen,
Con Funk Shun,
Jacob Miller,
Minutemen,
Man Eating Sloth,
James White and The Blacks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Durutti Column,
Max Romeo,
The Tremeloes,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.