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 Kiribati and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 rap 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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis 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?
Con Funk Shun,
ABC,
The Gap Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Technova,
Boogie Down Productions,
Donald Byrd,
Dark Day,
Eric Copeland,
Soulsonic Force,
The Divine Comedy,
Delon & Dalcan,
X-101,
Yellowson,
Make Up,
Ohio Players,
Chris Corsano,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Gladiators,
the Swans,
The Pretty Things,
Ossler,
T. Rex,
Symarip,
Ludus,
The Young Rascals,
Harpers Bizarre,
Flamin' Groovies,
Black Bananas,
Stiv Bators,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Christie,
The Vogues,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mad Mike,
Black Pus,
Sight & Sound,
Quando Quango,
Visage,
Byron Stingily,
KRS-One,
the Fania All-Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
Das Ding,
Thompson Twins,
Magazine,
Jandek,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Count Five,
This Heat,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rufus Thomas,
Monks,
Pole,
China Crisis,
Peter and Kerry,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eric Dolphy,
Fear,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.