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 Italy and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Main Source 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
The Fuzztones,
Rakim,
The Dead C,
Laurel Aitken,
Hot Snakes,
Make Up,
Swans,
Lungfish,
Glenn Branca,
Public Enemy,
Ken Boothe,
Fela Kuti,
The Smiths,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Archie Shepp,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mark Hollis,
Slave,
Bad Manners,
Roxy Music,
Smog,
U.S. Maple,
The Neon Judgement,
Lou Christie,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Litter,
The Music Machine,
Bang On A Can,
The Seeds,
Colin Newman,
Liliput,
The United States of America,
The Durutti Column,
Minor Threat,
Minutemen,
Amazonics,
Ultra Naté,
Shoche,
Bizarre Inc.,
Vladislav Delay,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kurtis Blow,
the Human League,
The Associates,
Todd Rundgren,
The Searchers,
Ice-T,
The Black Dice,
Hoover,
In Retrospect,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hashim,
T. Rex,
The Tremeloes,
Sixth Finger,
The Fortunes,
F. McDonald,
Accadde A,
June of 44,
The Knickerbockers,
Zero Boys,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.