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 Chile and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the punk 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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
The Blackbyrds,
DJ Style,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scrapy,
Idris Muhammad,
Crime,
Au Pairs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Warsaw,
Eddi Front,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jimmy McGriff,
Urselle,
The Selecter,
Jerry's Kids,
Roxette,
Moss Icon,
Rotary Connection,
Sight & Sound,
The Dead C,
Reuben Wilson,
Ohio Players,
The Evens,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Funkadelic,
Morten Harket,
Aloha Tigers,
The Index,
Tom Boy,
Camberwell Now,
Hot Snakes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Barclay James Harvest,
Patti Smith,
Thee Headcoats,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Franke,
Banda Bassotti,
World's Most,
Derrick Morgan,
Black Pus,
Mr. Review,
Unrelated Segments,
Saccharine Trust,
Pulsallama,
Lou Christie,
Heaven 17,
The American Breed,
The Dave Clark Five,
Terrestrial Tones,
Swell Maps,
Ronan,
the Bar-Kays,
Glenn Branca,
Joe Smooth,
CMW,
Stetsasonic,
Gong,
Symarip,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.