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 Mexico and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Slackers to the crunk 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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Little Man,
Swell Maps,
Index,
Erykah Badu,
Reuben Wilson,
Faust,
The Black Dice,
The Doobie Brothers,
a-ha,
The Toasters,
John Cale,
E-Dancer,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
David Bowie,
Magazine,
Livin' Joy,
Charles Mingus,
Piero Umiliani,
Matthew Halsall,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Davy DMX,
Quantec,
Scientists,
Deadbeat,
Neil Young,
Anthony Braxton,
Nils Olav,
Talk Talk,
the Association,
Khruangbin,
Funky Four + One,
Fad Gadget,
Unrelated Segments,
Albert Ayler,
The Buckinghams,
Stereo Dub,
Q and Not U,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pulsallama,
Bobby Byrd,
Nas,
Gichy Dan,
Television,
Kenny Larkin,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lakeside,
Toni Rubio,
The Mummies,
The Searchers,
Ice-T,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Harry Pussy,
Arab on Radar,
Visage,
Pere Ubu,
Connie Case,
Soulsonic Force,
Tres Demented,
Masters at Work,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.