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 Iran and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Portland.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare 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 Simply Red to the jazz 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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Sherman,
T. Rex,
Pet Shop Boys,
Robert Görl,
The Dirtbombs,
Average White Band,
Duran Duran,
Adolescents,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ludus,
Bill Wells,
Avey Tare,
Mantronix,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Groovy Waters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scratch Acid,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Terry Callier,
EPMD,
Kool Moe Dee,
Audionom,
Little Man,
Vladislav Delay,
Reuben Wilson,
The Move,
The Cure,
Interpol,
Aural Exciters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The J.B.'s,
Crispy Ambulance,
X-Ray Spex,
Stereo Dub,
Michelle Simonal,
The Slits,
The Star Department,
Pagans,
Saccharine Trust,
The Pop Group,
Blake Baxter,
The Wake,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hasil Adkins,
Godley & Creme,
The Techniques,
Tubeway Army,
Essential Logic,
Donny Hathaway,
Minor Threat,
Massinfluence,
Sun Ra,
Fluxion,
Juan Atkins,
Robert Wyatt,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.