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 Sri Lanka and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 DNA to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Rites of Spring,
Fela Kuti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Bananas,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kurtis Blow,
The Count Five,
Scion,
Janne Schatter,
The Busters,
Danielle Patucci,
Ultimate Spinach,
Boredoms,
The Gories,
Kaleidoscope,
the Slits,
Newcleus,
The Stooges,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
June of 44,
Fad Gadget,
Slick Rick,
kango's stein massive,
The New Christs,
The Index,
Jeru the Damaja,
Suburban Knight,
Wasted Youth,
Piero Umiliani,
Outsiders,
48th St. Collective,
Chrome,
The Barracudas,
Interpol,
Ituana,
The Monks,
Mission of Burma,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
ABBA,
The Selecter,
Liliput,
Morten Harket,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-Ray Spex,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ludus,
Underground Resistance,
Arcadia,
The Saints,
Agent Orange,
Gang Green,
Pulsallama,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eve St. Jones,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.