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 Hungary and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the rap 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
This Heat,
Dark Day,
Dual Sessions,
Angry Samoans,
Bill Near,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Cure,
The Gun Club,
Duran Duran,
Porter Ricks,
X-101,
Morten Harket,
The Monochrome Set,
The Mummies,
Jandek,
Todd Rundgren,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ornette Coleman,
Matthew Halsall,
The Red Krayola,
Lou Reed,
Sonic Youth,
New York Dolls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
These Immortal Souls,
EPMD,
Radiohead,
The Doobie Brothers,
Byron Stingily,
Gerry Rafferty,
Quantec,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Standells,
Pet Shop Boys,
Technova,
Mission of Burma,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Zeros,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sex Pistols,
The New Christs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Suicide,
The Wake,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Can,
Alphaville,
Excepter,
The Fugs,
Visage,
Soft Cell,
Talk Talk,
Mad Mike,
Siglo XX,
Barry Ungar,
Slick Rick,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cal Tjader,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.