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 Indonesia and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Todd Rundgren to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dual Sessions. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sarah Menescal,
Animal Collective,
Outsiders,
Graham Central Station,
The Vogues,
The Trojans,
Stockholm Monsters,
Deepchord,
Minnie Riperton,
The Names,
Audionom,
Donald Byrd,
Khruangbin,
Quadrant,
The Busters,
Soft Cell,
Blake Baxter,
Interpol,
Soft Machine,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Standells,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mr. Review,
Lakeside,
Masters at Work,
Glenn Branca,
Cybotron,
The Blues Magoos,
The United States of America,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rosa Yemen,
Derrick May,
Marmalade,
Con Funk Shun,
Trumans Water,
Fugazi,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Cure,
The Doors,
Kayak,
The Zeros,
Unrelated Segments,
Soulsonic Force,
the Human League,
Average White Band,
Dual Sessions,
The Kinks,
Alice Coltrane,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Section 25,
the Swans,
Laurel Aitken,
Gastr Del Sol,
One Last Wish,
Robert Hood,
Clear Light,
Colin Newman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.