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 Barbados and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 clarinet 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 Khruangbin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Maleditus Sound,
Angry Samoans,
Lucky Dragons,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Josef K,
Au Pairs,
David McCallum,
Echospace,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Misunderstood,
The Standells,
Thompson Twins,
Swell Maps,
Terrestrial Tones,
E-Dancer,
The Smoke,
The Pop Group,
Bauhaus,
The Selecter,
John Holt,
Masters at Work,
48th St. Collective,
Average White Band,
Harmonia,
K-Klass,
Colin Newman,
X-101,
Man Parrish,
Deadbeat,
Symarip,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Negative Approach,
Susan Cadogan,
Toni Rubio,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nation of Ulysses,
Supertramp,
Public Image Ltd.,
Interpol,
Newcleus,
Ponytail,
Ultravox,
Man Eating Sloth,
New Order,
Lalo Schifrin,
Royal Trux,
Erasure,
Harpers Bizarre,
Buzzcocks,
Quando Quango,
John Lydon,
Prince Buster,
The Toasters,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sparks,
Pantytec,
The Sonics,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.