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 Rwanda and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro 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 Bush Tetras to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Man Parrish,
La Düsseldorf,
The American Breed,
Lalann,
The Dave Clark Five,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Walker Brothers,
Alphaville,
Jacques Brel,
Kevin Saunderson,
Hashim,
Stetsasonic,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roy Ayers,
Mo-Dettes,
Jeff Mills,
Cecil Taylor,
Fatback Band,
The Angels of Light,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Joensuu 1685,
Fat Boys,
Scan 7,
Dennis Brown,
Circle Jerks,
The Black Dice,
Roger Hodgson,
The J.B.'s,
James White and The Blacks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Angry Samoans,
Marc Almond,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mr. Review,
Amon Düül II,
Warsaw,
Fear,
Siglo XX,
Agitation Free,
Trumans Water,
Leonard Cohen,
Stiv Bators,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
David Bowie,
Cluster,
Carl Craig,
Mars,
L. Decosne,
Man Eating Sloth,
Johnny Osbourne,
DJ Sneak,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Q65,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bauhaus,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.