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 Australia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Robert Palmer 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 Porter Ricks to the punk 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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Pole,
The Shadows of Knight,
David Bowie,
Terry Callier,
The Trojans,
The Cramps,
DNA,
H. Thieme,
The Durutti Column,
These Immortal Souls,
Bobby Byrd,
Gil Scott Heron,
Soft Cell,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gun Club,
The New Christs,
The Divine Comedy,
Animal Collective,
Das Ding,
Harry Pussy,
Underground Resistance,
Khruangbin,
Heaven 17,
F. McDonald,
June of 44,
Ossler,
Curtis Mayfield,
Donald Byrd,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Cowsills,
The American Breed,
Tropical Tobacco,
Grauzone,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Camberwell Now,
Jawbox,
Arthur Verocai,
The Selecter,
Sonic Youth,
Lou Reed,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Accadde A,
48th St. Collective,
Chris & Cosey,
Bluetip,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pagans,
Nas,
Blake Baxter,
Johnny Clarke,
Kerri Chandler,
The Dave Clark Five,
Moebius,
Qualms,
Alton Ellis,
Scion,
Rites of Spring,
The Move,
Eddi Front,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.