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 Turkmenistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs 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?
Bob Dylan,
Wolf Eyes,
Quantec,
Boredoms,
Scratch Acid,
Altered Images,
Ornette Coleman,
The Birthday Party,
Lalo Schifrin,
E-Dancer,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
June of 44,
Dawn Penn,
Stetsasonic,
Throbbing Gristle,
Peter & Gordon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
T.S.O.L.,
Steve Hackett,
Qualms,
The Vogues,
Sun Ra,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Joe Smooth,
Hot Snakes,
Model 500,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Brick,
Brand Nubian,
UT,
Kerrie Biddell,
Funky Four + One,
Ken Boothe,
Kaleidoscope,
Oblivians,
Avey Tare,
The Toasters,
Pagans,
Wire,
Magazine,
Minor Threat,
Thee Headcoats,
Icehouse,
Lindisfarne,
Rakim,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Todd Rundgren,
Pole,
Jesper Dahlback,
Stereo Dub,
L. Decosne,
the Soft Cell,
Surgeon,
John Foxx,
The Mummies,
Swans,
Joey Negro,
The Knickerbockers,
T. Rex,
a-ha,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.