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 Togo and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Taipei.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Swans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
the Normal,
Icehouse,
Kas Product,
Scan 7,
The Slackers,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Thee Headcoats,
Altered Images,
Brass Construction,
Aaron Thompson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crooked Eye,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wings,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Fire Engines,
Accadde A,
Arthur Verocai,
The Blues Magoos,
Con Funk Shun,
Hot Snakes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tim Buckley,
The Misunderstood,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ronan,
Outsiders,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Count Five,
FM Einheit,
Brothers Johnson,
Roy Ayers,
Cal Tjader,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Martian,
Mandrill,
Animal Collective,
D'Angelo,
The Star Department,
John Foxx,
The Angels of Light,
H. Thieme,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Faraquet,
Swell Maps,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
One Last Wish,
Excepter,
Half Japanese,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bang On A Can,
Barrington Levy,
Aswad,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Monks,
Juan Atkins,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.