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 Kyrgyzstan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 güiro 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 The American Breed to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. 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 arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
the Human League,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Stooges,
Dark Day,
Mission of Burma,
John Holt,
Frankie Knuckles,
Deakin,
Essential Logic,
Absolute Body Control,
The Sound,
MC5,
Lower 48,
The Dead C,
Davy DMX,
Rekid,
Circle Jerks,
Roy Ayers,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
ABC,
Lightning Bolt,
Bobby Byrd,
Sparks,
Ultra Naté,
Vladislav Delay,
Pussy Galore,
Suburban Knight,
Arab on Radar,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Aswad,
The Skatalites,
Black Flag,
Man Eating Sloth,
Alice Coltrane,
Albert Ayler,
Slick Rick,
In Retrospect,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pylon,
Byron Stingily,
Peter and Kerry,
The Music Machine,
The Associates,
Wally Richardson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wings,
Janne Schatter,
The American Breed,
T. Rex,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Anakelly,
Johnny Clarke,
Derrick Morgan,
Dave Gahan,
Ken Boothe,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tubeway Army,
The Cowsills,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gang of Four,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.