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 United Kingdom and from Halifax.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mumbai.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jimmy McGriff to the rap 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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thompson Twins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Brass Construction,
The Doors,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Index,
X-101,
Quadrant,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
U.S. Maple,
These Immortal Souls,
Roxy Music,
John Holt,
June of 44,
Jawbox,
Jeff Mills,
Eddi Front,
Fluxion,
Urselle,
L. Decosne,
Grandmaster Flash,
Maurizio,
Yellowson,
The Cowsills,
Black Pus,
The Sonics,
Matthew Bourne,
Blossom Toes,
the Slits,
Carl Craig,
The Buckinghams,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Skarface,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Gories,
Icehouse,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Interpol,
The Gap Band,
Masters at Work,
Throbbing Gristle,
Y Pants,
Rufus Thomas,
Wally Richardson,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bush Tetras,
The Moody Blues,
Sixth Finger,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Monochrome Set,
The Martian,
The Seeds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Erasure,
The Gun Club,
Lee Hazlewood,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marc Almond,
Eric B and Rakim,
Boredoms,
Circle Jerks,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.