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 South and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rekid to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Offenders,
MDC,
Laurel Aitken,
DJ Sneak,
Mission of Burma,
The Misunderstood,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Animal Collective,
Aaron Thompson,
The Invisible,
Shoche,
Cecil Taylor,
Livin' Joy,
Lindisfarne,
Aswad,
48th St. Collective,
Brass Construction,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dave Gahan,
Rites of Spring,
Blancmange,
David McCallum,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wally Richardson,
Chris & Cosey,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deakin,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Neil Young,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fire Engines,
Soft Machine,
LL Cool J,
Royal Trux,
Blake Baxter,
The Fugs,
R.M.O.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scott Walker,
Danielle Patucci,
Alton Ellis,
the Bar-Kays,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kevin Saunderson,
Smog,
Josef K,
Kaleidoscope,
June of 44,
Reuben Wilson,
Skarface,
Saccharine Trust,
Vainqueur,
Joensuu 1685,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
One Last Wish,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.