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 Portugal and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 sitar 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 Roy Ayers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Absolute Body Control,
X-101,
Pet Shop Boys,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Spoonie Gee,
Idris Muhammad,
Television,
Alice Coltrane,
Bob Dylan,
Cymande,
Cecil Taylor,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Japan,
the Sonics,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Hot Snakes,
Boredoms,
Reagan Youth,
Metal Thangz,
Eric Copeland,
The Alarm Clocks,
Funkadelic,
Con Funk Shun,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Tremeloes,
Don Cherry,
Aloha Tigers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Television Personalities,
Prince Buster,
Iggy Pop,
Sister Nancy,
Deepchord,
Hoover,
The Wake,
Subhumans,
The Residents,
Harmonia,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Foxx,
Bronski Beat,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fortunes,
Hashim,
The Doobie Brothers,
Banda Bassotti,
Nick Fraelich,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roxy Music,
H. Thieme,
Yaz,
Stiv Bators,
Rekid,
Groovy Waters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Index,
K-Klass,
the Swans,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.