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 Niger and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Milan.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Tim Buckley to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Tres Demented,
Tom Boy,
Masters at Work,
Sixth Finger,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Simply Red,
Nick Fraelich,
Zero Boys,
Minutemen,
The Raincoats,
The Skatalites,
Theoretical Girls,
Darondo,
Anakelly,
Average White Band,
Scrapy,
Joe Finger,
Scientists,
Traffic Nightmare,
8 Eyed Spy,
Anthony Braxton,
the Swans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gichy Dan,
Henry Cow,
Robert Wyatt,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bush Tetras,
Mission of Burma,
The Victims,
Skriet,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
10cc,
Chris Corsano,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Suburban Knight,
Ten City,
Eve St. Jones,
The Pop Group,
Marmalade,
Soft Machine,
Wally Richardson,
K-Klass,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Spoonie Gee,
The Cure,
Derrick May,
Amazonics,
The Toasters,
The Human League,
Morten Harket,
Unrelated Segments,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Grass Roots,
The Velvet Underground,
Spandau Ballet,
Dorothy Ashby,
Drexciya,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.