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 Brunei and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gang of Four to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
The Litter,
The Angels of Light,
Sex Pistols,
K-Klass,
Procol Harum,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Boz Scaggs,
AZ,
Scientists,
the Bar-Kays,
The Victims,
The Five Americans,
The Misunderstood,
The Skatalites,
UT,
The Slits,
Harmonia,
Moebius,
Cecil Taylor,
Fat Boys,
Pole,
Lindisfarne,
Byron Stingily,
Simply Red,
Reuben Wilson,
Eric Copeland,
Symarip,
Q and Not U,
The Seeds,
The Golliwogs,
E-Dancer,
Gang Starr,
The Mummies,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sound Behaviour,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Toni Rubio,
Terry Callier,
Sight & Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Todd Rundgren,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Gap Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Quantec,
Grey Daturas,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Young Rascals,
Cheater Slicks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Idris Muhammad,
Laurel Aitken,
The Walker Brothers,
Theoretical Girls,
Connie Case,
Zero Boys,
Bush Tetras,
The Cure,
Wally Richardson,
Moss Icon,
Rod Modell,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.