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 Mongolia and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Invisible to the rap 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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Angry Samoans,
Youth Brigade,
Dual Sessions,
DJ Style,
Pussy Galore,
The Invisible,
Deepchord,
Pierre Henry,
The Pretty Things,
Camouflage,
The Monks,
Brass Construction,
Grandmaster Flash,
Blake Baxter,
Gang Gang Dance,
Zapp,
Theoretical Girls,
Terry Callier,
Aaron Thompson,
Nirvana,
Q and Not U,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Al Stewart,
Altered Images,
Ken Boothe,
John Lydon,
Erasure,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Gun Club,
Cameo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Martian,
Jesper Dahlback,
Country Teasers,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
10cc,
Absolute Body Control,
Minutemen,
New Order,
Procol Harum,
The Fortunes,
Crash Course in Science,
Judy Mowatt,
Barrington Levy,
Ice-T,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Association,
The Raincoats,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cal Tjader,
Lakeside,
Ossler,
Funky Four + One,
The Kinks,
The Walker Brothers,
Donald Byrd,
The Litter,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.