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 Korea North and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Monks to the disco 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
DNA,
Quantec,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Interpol,
The Fire Engines,
Lungfish,
The Techniques,
The Gories,
Derrick May,
Lebanon Hanover,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sight & Sound,
Skriet,
Yazoo,
Amon Düül II,
Lou Christie,
Fad Gadget,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nico,
Eric Copeland,
Whodini,
Derrick Morgan,
Sugar Minott,
DJ Sneak,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Absolute Body Control,
The Sonics,
Rhythm & Sound,
ABBA,
New Age Steppers,
Yusef Lateef,
Eric B and Rakim,
Banda Bassotti,
Qualms,
Scan 7,
Gang of Four,
Mad Mike,
Faraquet,
Warsaw,
Hashim,
Basic Channel,
Crispian St. Peters,
Alison Limerick,
Model 500,
Spoonie Gee,
Byron Stingily,
John Foxx,
June of 44,
The Gun Club,
the Slits,
Scratch Acid,
The Invisible,
X-101,
The Mojo Men,
Funkadelic,
Ohio Players,
Deadbeat,
the Soft Cell,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.