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 Turkmenistan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator 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 Alton Ellis to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
D'Angelo,
Main Source,
Monks,
the Normal,
Toni Rubio,
Adolescents,
Pere Ubu,
Bootsy Collins,
David Bowie,
Unwound,
The Move,
Grandmaster Flash,
Banda Bassotti,
Isaac Hayes,
Japan,
Mars,
The Sonics,
Bluetip,
Siglo XX,
Soft Cell,
Blossom Toes,
Kerri Chandler,
Pole,
Mantronix,
Country Joe & The Fish,
T.S.O.L.,
Funkadelic,
OOIOO,
Terry Callier,
Saccharine Trust,
Shoche,
Sugar Minott,
The Electric Prunes,
Johnny Clarke,
Brick,
Gang Green,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sight & Sound,
Minor Threat,
The Toasters,
Jeff Mills,
Y Pants,
Barbara Tucker,
Black Pus,
Michelle Simonal,
Gichy Dan,
Donald Byrd,
World's Most,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Joy Division,
Television,
Steve Hackett,
Moss Icon,
Gang of Four,
Surgeon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rod Modell,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.