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 Andorra and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Johnny Clarke to the electroclash 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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Second Layer,
Barry Ungar,
Pierre Henry,
The Fortunes,
Sister Nancy,
James White and The Blacks,
Althea and Donna,
Jacques Brel,
Bluetip,
Josef K,
Agent Orange,
The Sound,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Arthur Verocai,
Andrew Hill,
Jerry's Kids,
New York Dolls,
Fugazi,
Rufus Thomas,
A Certain Ratio,
One Last Wish,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crash Course in Science,
Man Parrish,
Qualms,
The Happenings,
Delon & Dalcan,
48th St. Collective,
Grandmaster Flash,
Deepchord,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Slackers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Danielle Patucci,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Quantec,
Bronski Beat,
Connie Case,
The Leaves,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
UT,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Patti Smith,
the Association,
The Neon Judgement,
This Heat,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
kango's stein massive,
The Wake,
Mars,
Faust,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Terry Callier,
Letta Mbulu,
Lyres,
Harry Pussy,
Roxette,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.