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 Algeria and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Youth Brigade,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gabor Szabo,
Stereo Dub,
Maleditus Sound,
Theoretical Girls,
Jacob Miller,
Metal Thangz,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Ice-T,
Camouflage,
Fad Gadget,
Surgeon,
Ultra Naté,
Dennis Brown,
the Slits,
Franke,
La Düsseldorf,
Isaac Hayes,
New Age Steppers,
Jacques Brel,
Iggy Pop,
Don Cherry,
The Gun Club,
The Doobie Brothers,
K-Klass,
Harmonia,
Smog,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Robert Hood,
Inner City,
The Index,
Accadde A,
Ohio Players,
Yusef Lateef,
the Sonics,
Neu!,
The Techniques,
Deakin,
Soft Machine,
The Stooges,
Aural Exciters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Niagra,
Minutemen,
The Toasters,
The Knickerbockers,
Saccharine Trust,
EPMD,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dawn Penn,
48th St. Collective,
Kenny Larkin,
The Mummies,
Loose Ends,
Ralphi Rosario,
Barbara Tucker,
Byron Stingily,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.