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 Botswana and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 New Order to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Association,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bob Dylan,
Laurel Aitken,
New York Dolls,
The Wake,
The Last Poets,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gang Gang Dance,
Harry Pussy,
Delon & Dalcan,
Chrome,
Yazoo,
The Toasters,
Bronski Beat,
Harpers Bizarre,
Hashim,
Reagan Youth,
Loose Ends,
Stetsasonic,
Brass Construction,
The Martian,
Robert Görl,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Althea and Donna,
Crime,
Neil Young,
Soulsonic Force,
Cybotron,
The Busters,
Animal Collective,
John Foxx,
Whodini,
Pantaleimon,
Frankie Knuckles,
Boredoms,
Sun Ra,
Audionom,
The Misunderstood,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Barracudas,
The Smiths,
Ossler,
A Certain Ratio,
The Moleskins,
F. McDonald,
Roy Ayers,
Masters at Work,
Archie Shepp,
John Holt,
The Offenders,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
LL Cool J,
Junior Murvin,
Oneida,
Anthony Braxton,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.