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 States and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Milan.
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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Ultra Naté to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
X-101,
Ralphi Rosario,
Angry Samoans,
Lakeside,
Hoover,
Alison Limerick,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
L. Decosne,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pole,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Divine Comedy,
The Toasters,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Magazine,
Little Man,
Can,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Minutemen,
Brothers Johnson,
Eurythmics,
Quantec,
The Dead C,
Boredoms,
Deadbeat,
Stereo Dub,
Circle Jerks,
Thompson Twins,
The Velvet Underground,
Marmalade,
Scrapy,
Pussy Galore,
Glenn Branca,
Moby Grape,
Fat Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
Moss Icon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gang Starr,
Soulsonic Force,
Prince Buster,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
10cc,
Faraquet,
The Happenings,
ABBA,
Half Japanese,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Trojans,
Simply Red,
Roxette,
Flipper,
Peter & Gordon,
R.M.O.,
New Age Steppers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bob Dylan,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.