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 Czech Republic and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin 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 The Mummies to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Fugazi,
Fatback Band,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Marine Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Juan Atkins,
Popol Vuh,
Toni Rubio,
Alison Limerick,
Sugar Minott,
B.T. Express,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Harry Pussy,
Quadrant,
Surgeon,
The Slackers,
The Barracudas,
Tubeway Army,
Essential Logic,
Bizarre Inc.,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fat Boys,
Glenn Branca,
The Angels of Light,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Standells,
Camberwell Now,
Rosa Yemen,
The Evens,
John Coltrane,
Mars,
Swell Maps,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Barclay James Harvest,
Clear Light,
Dennis Brown,
Technova,
Marc Almond,
Second Layer,
FM Einheit,
La Düsseldorf,
Alton Ellis,
Young Marble Giants,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pet Shop Boys,
Hardrive,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Sound,
Bill Wells,
Aloha Tigers,
Susan Cadogan,
Gastr Del Sol,
Darondo,
Erykah Badu,
Rod Modell,
Severed Heads,
Robert Hood,
Black Bananas,
Schoolly D,
Black Flag,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.