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 Czech Republic and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Last Poets to the funk 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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Alison Limerick,
D'Angelo,
The Pretty Things,
The Star Department,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Techniques,
Underground Resistance,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bootsy Collins,
Q and Not U,
David McCallum,
Tim Buckley,
Graham Central Station,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gladiators,
Livin' Joy,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Last Poets,
The Count Five,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Derrick Morgan,
Scientists,
Barbara Tucker,
Scott Walker,
Yaz,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ronan,
The Cramps,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Con Funk Shun,
Josef K,
The Young Rascals,
Mandrill,
Alice Coltrane,
Magma,
Duran Duran,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gichy Dan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Evens,
Frankie Knuckles,
Henry Cow,
The Tremeloes,
Whodini,
Mark Hollis,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Real Kids,
Pagans,
Faust,
Cecil Taylor,
Popol Vuh,
Don Cherry,
Sixth Finger,
Altered Images,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Human League,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.