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 Uganda 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 rhodes 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 Visage to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Clear Light,
James White and The Blacks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bad Manners,
X-102,
Moss Icon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Banda Bassotti,
The Searchers,
Tears for Fears,
Malaria!,
The Monks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Monks,
Kenny Larkin,
Lakeside,
10cc,
The Human League,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Invisible,
The Misunderstood,
the Sonics,
Archie Shepp,
Babytalk,
Desert Stars,
Harmonia,
Ralphi Rosario,
B.T. Express,
The Moleskins,
Bauhaus,
Scratch Acid,
Ohio Players,
T.S.O.L.,
Sandy B,
Basic Channel,
Massinfluence,
Sex Pistols,
Depeche Mode,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Reuben Wilson,
Rosa Yemen,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Pus,
Mandrill,
Johnny Osbourne,
Brothers Johnson,
Khruangbin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lucky Dragons,
The Wake,
Flash Fearless,
a-ha,
Jeff Mills,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Golliwogs,
Alice Coltrane,
Half Japanese,
Wasted Youth,
Thee Headcoats,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.