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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Skriet to the rap 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Joy Division,
David Axelrod,
Idris Muhammad,
Crispy Ambulance,
New Order,
Amazonics,
Loose Ends,
Patti Smith,
Unwound,
Pulsallama,
Chris & Cosey,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jimmy McGriff,
Minutemen,
Scientists,
Wally Richardson,
Eurythmics,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Swell Maps,
Warren Ellis,
Ultravox,
Pagans,
Sun Ra,
FM Einheit,
Newcleus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Parry Music,
Guru Guru,
New Age Steppers,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Dorothy Ashby,
A Certain Ratio,
Buzzcocks,
the Normal,
The J.B.'s,
Yazoo,
The Angels of Light,
Groovy Waters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Moebius,
Au Pairs,
Terry Callier,
Make Up,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sonic Youth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Public Enemy,
Sandy B,
Pantaleimon,
Rekid,
Talk Talk,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Deadbeat,
Sun City Girls,
The Smiths,
Sugar Minott,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.