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 Sweden and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord 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 The Doobie Brothers to the rap 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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Public Enemy,
The Stooges,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Laurel Aitken,
The Walker Brothers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fuzztones,
Arcadia,
Warsaw,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Joe Finger,
Roger Hodgson,
Lindisfarne,
Quadrant,
Sun Ra,
Glenn Branca,
Magma,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Reagan Youth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tom Boy,
Clear Light,
Television Personalities,
ABBA,
Bob Dylan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lucky Dragons,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Au Pairs,
Jesper Dahlback,
Funky Four + One,
The Slits,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
John Coltrane,
The Pretty Things,
The Blackbyrds,
Agent Orange,
Alton Ellis,
The Evens,
Tomorrow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Depeche Mode,
Bluetip,
Gong,
Vainqueur,
Ornette Coleman,
Moby Grape,
UT,
Kurtis Blow,
Vladislav Delay,
Camouflage,
Flipper,
F. McDonald,
Jawbox,
Isaac Hayes,
Erykah Badu,
The Star Department,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.