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 Brazil and from Tokyo.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 guitar 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 The Doobie Brothers to the grunge 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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Skriet,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bush Tetras,
Kevin Saunderson,
Idris Muhammad,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fat Boys,
The New Christs,
Pierre Henry,
Rhythm & Sound,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Human League,
Spoonie Gee,
Hoover,
A Certain Ratio,
Wally Richardson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Anthony Braxton,
Judy Mowatt,
Zapp,
Black Bananas,
Erasure,
The Pop Group,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Deadbeat,
The Knickerbockers,
The Raincoats,
Isaac Hayes,
Pole,
Rosa Yemen,
Big Daddy Kane,
Camouflage,
The Kinks,
Tubeway Army,
Alton Ellis,
the Swans,
Electric Prunes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang Starr,
Barbara Tucker,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Monolake,
the Sonics,
Sound Behaviour,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Echospace,
Al Stewart,
Freddie Wadling,
Mr. Review,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Moody Blues,
Grandmaster Flash,
Soft Machine,
Johnny Clarke,
Sixth Finger,
Visage,
Heaven 17,
Funky Four + One,
X-102,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.