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 Yemen and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 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 Slick Rick to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Guru Guru,
Gastr Del Sol,
Index,
Harmonia,
Tommy Roe,
The Zeros,
Black Bananas,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Toasters,
The Electric Prunes,
Newcleus,
Funkadelic,
Yaz,
Janne Schatter,
Massinfluence,
The Mojo Men,
John Foxx,
Eric Dolphy,
Blancmange,
The Sonics,
ABBA,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Roger Hodgson,
Matthew Halsall,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joey Negro,
Gil Scott Heron,
Thompson Twins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kevin Saunderson,
Q65,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bang On A Can,
Bill Near,
Frankie Knuckles,
Radio Birdman,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Neon Judgement,
Motorama,
New York Dolls,
The Monks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Red Krayola,
Smog,
Laurel Aitken,
The Mummies,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rites of Spring,
The Litter,
Fluxion,
Intrusion,
Tears for Fears,
Warren Ellis,
The Pretty Things,
Wings,
the Normal,
Technova,
Connie Case,
K-Klass,
Arab on Radar,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.