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 Cape Verde and from Stockholm.
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 Toronto and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Piero Umiliani to the dance 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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Brothers Johnson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Underground Resistance,
Pulsallama,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
H. Thieme,
The Stooges,
Swell Maps,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sonic Youth,
Johnny Osbourne,
Robert Hood,
Bad Manners,
Cal Tjader,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Slave,
Sun City Girls,
Severed Heads,
Rakim,
The Pop Group,
Eurythmics,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Blackbyrds,
CMW,
Fela Kuti,
The Five Americans,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Germs,
B.T. Express,
Pierre Henry,
Jandek,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Moody Blues,
DNA,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Deadbeat,
Excepter,
ABC,
Camouflage,
Pussy Galore,
Newcleus,
The Tremeloes,
Buzzcocks,
The Smiths,
Roxy Music,
Ronan,
Half Japanese,
Sister Nancy,
Absolute Body Control,
Mission of Burma,
Bill Wells,
Amon Düül,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Desert Stars,
Panda Bear,
Don Cherry,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Leaves,
Andrew Hill,
David Bowie,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.