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 Croatia and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Knickerbockers to the electroclash 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Music Machine,
Peter and Kerry,
Kenny Larkin,
Fela Kuti,
Eden Ahbez,
Tommy Roe,
Marmalade,
The Selecter,
Brothers Johnson,
Fugazi,
Schoolly D,
Quando Quango,
Deadbeat,
Roxette,
The Flesh Eaters,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Divine Comedy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Idris Muhammad,
The Fire Engines,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joyce Sims,
James White and The Blacks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bad Manners,
Kurtis Blow,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Matthew Halsall,
Intrusion,
Mars,
The Cure,
Icehouse,
The Wake,
Cymande,
Marvin Gaye,
Steve Hackett,
Bizarre Inc.,
In Retrospect,
The Cosmic Jokers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Glenn Branca,
the Fania All-Stars,
Aswad,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Groovy Waters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cal Tjader,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Popol Vuh,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ossler,
The Motions,
Alison Limerick,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.