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 Finland and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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's Slasher Flicks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Lydon,
Mark Hollis,
Black Sheep,
Ossler,
Infiniti,
LL Cool J,
Alice Coltrane,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Angels of Light,
Procol Harum,
kango's stein massive,
Kenny Larkin,
Skarface,
Bang On A Can,
Minor Threat,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aswad,
The Slackers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Searchers,
Smog,
Boogie Down Productions,
Magma,
Delta 5,
The J.B.'s,
John Holt,
ABC,
The Doors,
Janne Schatter,
Sex Pistols,
Sight & Sound,
The Count Five,
Y Pants,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
X-102,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Aural Exciters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Chris Corsano,
The Vogues,
Surgeon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Blancmange,
Scratch Acid,
The Kinks,
Erasure,
Mad Mike,
Suicide,
The Alarm Clocks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Flipper,
Connie Case,
Laurel Aitken,
the Human League,
Lou Christie,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Dead C,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.