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 Bolivia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 clarinet 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 Erasure 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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed 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?
The Fugs,
The Leaves,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Dave Clark Five,
Slick Rick,
Terry Callier,
Maurizio,
Grey Daturas,
48th St. Collective,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lower 48,
The Fall,
Mark Hollis,
Angry Samoans,
The Last Poets,
Smog,
Gichy Dan,
Nick Fraelich,
Mary Jane Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Camouflage,
Davy DMX,
Roy Ayers,
Archie Shepp,
The Smiths,
The Trojans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Qualms,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Freddie Wadling,
The Invisible,
Don Cherry,
Sugar Minott,
The Names,
This Heat,
Heaven 17,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Moss Icon,
Roxette,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sister Nancy,
The Associates,
Mad Mike,
Joyce Sims,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Slackers,
DJ Sneak,
Trumans Water,
T.S.O.L.,
Quando Quango,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Velvet Underground,
Aural Exciters,
Ituana,
Procol Harum,
Eden Ahbez,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.