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 Kazakhstan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Glenn Branca to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Tommy Roe,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Roy Ayers,
John Cale,
Wings,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Wake,
Con Funk Shun,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
La Düsseldorf,
Fela Kuti,
Joy Division,
Funkadelic,
Second Layer,
Crispian St. Peters,
Siglo XX,
Adolescents,
Saccharine Trust,
The Barracudas,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hashim,
Rapeman,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Gun Club,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lungfish,
Bootsy Collins,
Laurel Aitken,
Liliput,
Ultra Naté,
Flamin' Groovies,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cecil Taylor,
Mo-Dettes,
The Leaves,
Tim Buckley,
Model 500,
Pussy Galore,
Sällskapet,
Soft Cell,
Jacques Brel,
The Kinks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Stiv Bators,
ABC,
Idris Muhammad,
Bobby Womack,
Man Eating Sloth,
Brass Construction,
Amon Düül II,
John Foxx,
The Pretty Things,
The Flesh Eaters,
Joyce Sims,
Brick,
The Dirtbombs,
Los Fastidios,
Grey Daturas,
Excepter,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.