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 Mauritania and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Chris Corsano to the electroclash 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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Ronan,
Minny Pops,
These Immortal Souls,
Section 25,
Brick,
Crispy Ambulance,
Don Cherry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Swans,
Trumans Water,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Das Ding,
The Monks,
Groovy Waters,
the Sonics,
Maurizio,
Joe Finger,
Joe Smooth,
In Retrospect,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cheater Slicks,
Matthew Bourne,
Toni Rubio,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Shoche,
Reuben Wilson,
Lou Christie,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang of Four,
Lindisfarne,
Scratch Acid,
Glambeats Corp.,
Idris Muhammad,
The Evens,
Babytalk,
Angry Samoans,
Metal Thangz,
the Fania All-Stars,
Au Pairs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Brothers Johnson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bad Manners,
Television Personalities,
the Bar-Kays,
Rosa Yemen,
The Slits,
Nirvana,
Deadbeat,
Fugazi,
Bizarre Inc.,
Erykah Badu,
Terry Callier,
The Busters,
Ken Boothe,
Boz Scaggs,
Excepter,
Faraquet,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.