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 Romania and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Camberwell Now to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Nico,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sex Pistols,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ice-T,
Stockholm Monsters,
Television,
Mo-Dettes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Real Kids,
The Fall,
Crooked Eye,
Minnie Riperton,
the Bar-Kays,
The Star Department,
Barrington Levy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Motions,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
K-Klass,
The Stooges,
Jeff Mills,
The Remains,
Mr. Review,
Fluxion,
Marcia Griffiths,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Monochrome Set,
Jeff Lynne,
Organ,
Malaria!,
Cameo,
Tubeway Army,
Freddie Wadling,
Stiv Bators,
Tres Demented,
Danielle Patucci,
a-ha,
Black Bananas,
Arab on Radar,
The Move,
Camouflage,
Suicide,
Jawbox,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wings,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultravox,
Anthony Braxton,
OOIOO,
The American Breed,
Faraquet,
The Young Rascals,
FM Einheit,
Jerry's Kids,
The Buckinghams,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.