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 Denmark and from London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lagos.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
John Holt,
Slick Rick,
Steve Hackett,
Sandy B,
Wally Richardson,
The Electric Prunes,
Skaos,
Barclay James Harvest,
AZ,
The Slits,
Pet Shop Boys,
Idris Muhammad,
Tommy Roe,
Ronan,
Scott Walker,
X-102,
Swans,
Godley & Creme,
Stereo Dub,
Ralphi Rosario,
Royal Trux,
Duran Duran,
OOIOO,
Kas Product,
Excepter,
Pere Ubu,
The Fire Engines,
Ken Boothe,
Jawbox,
The Remains,
Grauzone,
The Mummies,
Junior Murvin,
The Cowsills,
Unrelated Segments,
Malaria!,
the Bar-Kays,
Mark Hollis,
Ultimate Spinach,
Reuben Wilson,
cv313,
Symarip,
Tim Buckley,
Organ,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hashim,
Jesper Dahlback,
Scion,
Roxette,
David Bowie,
The Fortunes,
Crime,
B.T. Express,
the Normal,
David Axelrod,
David McCallum,
Blake Baxter,
Bang On A Can,
The Seeds,
Frankie Knuckles,
Radio Birdman,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.