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 Dominican Republic and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 guitar 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 Byron Stingily to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Silicon Teens,
Piero Umiliani,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Hasil Adkins,
Boogie Down Productions,
Au Pairs,
The Mojo Men,
Ponytail,
Ten City,
Amazonics,
Frankie Knuckles,
Stereo Dub,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dennis Brown,
Freddie Wadling,
Brand Nubian,
The Dead C,
Roxy Music,
Mission of Burma,
Hashim,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Germs,
Henry Cow,
The Seeds,
T. Rex,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Hoover,
Japan,
The Vogues,
Fat Boys,
The Motions,
The Five Americans,
Joe Finger,
Gang Green,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Aloha Tigers,
New Order,
Reagan Youth,
Make Up,
Quando Quango,
Zapp,
Oneida,
A Certain Ratio,
The Happenings,
Arthur Verocai,
The Stooges,
Rufus Thomas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Joensuu 1685,
Connie Case,
David Bowie,
E-Dancer,
Black Pus,
The Fire Engines,
The Barracudas,
F. McDonald,
The Standells,
Faraquet,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.