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 Belize and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Knickerbockers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Normal,
The Gun Club,
Howard Jones,
Whodini,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Procol Harum,
Quadrant,
Depeche Mode,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Sonics,
Angry Samoans,
Jacques Brel,
Dawn Penn,
Marmalade,
Make Up,
Underground Resistance,
David Axelrod,
New York Dolls,
Terry Callier,
Amon Düül,
Todd Terry,
Pet Shop Boys,
Radiohead,
Groovy Waters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sparks,
Erasure,
Gabor Szabo,
Heaven 17,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sandy B,
Bootsy Collins,
Lebanon Hanover,
A Certain Ratio,
Marine Girls,
The Grass Roots,
Circle Jerks,
Rites of Spring,
Harpers Bizarre,
Supertramp,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ronan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joe Smooth,
a-ha,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fad Gadget,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tubeway Army,
Rod Modell,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alison Limerick,
Bill Near,
Echospace,
Von Mondo,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.