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 Zimbabwe and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Glenn Branca to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Graham Central Station,
Bill Near,
Tommy Roe,
Stockholm Monsters,
The American Breed,
48th St. Collective,
Procol Harum,
Radiohead,
Smog,
Dawn Penn,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Golliwogs,
Marc Almond,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Harpers Bizarre,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nirvana,
Make Up,
New York Dolls,
Ornette Coleman,
The Mummies,
Reuben Wilson,
The Real Kids,
Fatback Band,
Boredoms,
The Moleskins,
Bob Dylan,
Scientists,
Absolute Body Control,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Association,
OOIOO,
Stetsasonic,
Cymande,
The Monks,
The Saints,
Fear,
The Litter,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Malaria!,
Suburban Knight,
Crime,
The Move,
The Young Rascals,
Electric Prunes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Knickerbockers,
Royal Trux,
Josef K,
The Doors,
The Blues Magoos,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.