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 Laos and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin 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 Underground Resistance to the disco 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
X-102,
Gregory Isaacs,
Matthew Bourne,
Freddie Wadling,
The Misunderstood,
Swell Maps,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Severed Heads,
Jeff Mills,
The Martian,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Bar-Kays,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Yellowson,
The Cowsills,
Minutemen,
B.T. Express,
Cameo,
Agent Orange,
The Happenings,
Gong,
Main Source,
Erasure,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gang Green,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Laurel Aitken,
Ten City,
A Certain Ratio,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Susan Cadogan,
LL Cool J,
The Remains,
David Bowie,
Lakeside,
Amazonics,
Mandrill,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Dead C,
Boz Scaggs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Robert Wyatt,
Roy Ayers,
Carl Craig,
Scion,
Mantronix,
Joe Finger,
Symarip,
Maurizio,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Basic Channel,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fad Gadget,
Popol Vuh,
Deakin,
The Count Five,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.