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 Libya and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 at the first Suicide 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 The Human League to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Henry Cow,
Warsaw,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Interpol,
The Selecter,
Skaos,
Gregory Isaacs,
Amon Düül,
Wings,
Sugar Minott,
The Grass Roots,
T. Rex,
John Foxx,
Man Eating Sloth,
Flamin' Groovies,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Faust,
Au Pairs,
Donny Hathaway,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ultravox,
Donald Byrd,
Piero Umiliani,
Niagra,
Fear,
The Invisible,
Gong,
Gang Gang Dance,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Trojans,
Crime,
The Vogues,
Ossler,
Flash Fearless,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jacques Brel,
Outsiders,
Supertramp,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ronan,
EPMD,
Dawn Penn,
Bauhaus,
Eric Dolphy,
Suicide,
The Gun Club,
H. Thieme,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Easy Going,
Minny Pops,
Buzzcocks,
Sex Pistols,
Robert Hood,
Byron Stingily,
Second Layer,
Sam Rivers,
Sight & Sound,
Skriet,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Doobie Brothers,
June of 44,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.