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 Iran and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cecil Taylor to the punk 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
the Association,
The Residents,
Ronan,
Cluster,
Todd Rundgren,
Guru Guru,
Eric Copeland,
Motorama,
Chris Corsano,
The Fall,
The Misunderstood,
Bob Dylan,
Avey Tare,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
DNA,
Moebius,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
cv313,
Eve St. Jones,
Groovy Waters,
Theoretical Girls,
Black Flag,
Duran Duran,
Kurtis Blow,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yaz,
The United States of America,
Bush Tetras,
Pere Ubu,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Slits,
Robert Wyatt,
Ultra Naté,
Johnny Osbourne,
Stiv Bators,
Ossler,
Ludus,
Alice Coltrane,
Traffic Nightmare,
New Order,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gap Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Bar-Kays,
Kaleidoscope,
B.T. Express,
Camberwell Now,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ituana,
Matthew Halsall,
Sarah Menescal,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joe Finger,
Lyres,
The Associates,
Jacob Miller,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp.
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.