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 Comoros and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Cowsills to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Rhythim Is Rhythim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Buzzcocks,
The Tremeloes,
Slave,
The Red Krayola,
Icehouse,
Spoonie Gee,
Jesper Dahlback,
Minor Threat,
Bang On A Can,
Stereo Dub,
Easy Going,
Blossom Toes,
L. Decosne,
Deepchord,
The Toasters,
The Zeros,
Liliput,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lalann,
Davy DMX,
Alphaville,
Byron Stingily,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Faraquet,
Half Japanese,
Arthur Verocai,
Joe Smooth,
Iggy Pop,
Mo-Dettes,
Maurizio,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Sonics,
Boz Scaggs,
Matthew Bourne,
Metal Thangz,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Roxette,
Pierre Henry,
Underground Resistance,
The Smiths,
Animal Collective,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rufus Thomas,
Schoolly D,
La Düsseldorf,
Sällskapet,
10cc,
Cecil Taylor,
Dawn Penn,
Bush Tetras,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Techniques,
Ultravox,
Pantaleimon,
OOIOO,
Absolute Body Control,
Scrapy,
Roxy Music,
the Association,
Lou Christie,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.