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 Philippines and from Calgary.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the punk 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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Lightning Bolt,
Oblivians,
One Last Wish,
Robert Wyatt,
The Moleskins,
Das Ding,
Parry Music,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tom Boy,
Bill Near,
Prince Buster,
Glenn Branca,
The Detroit Cobras,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Cal Tjader,
Barclay James Harvest,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Livin' Joy,
Alison Limerick,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Remains,
Angry Samoans,
LL Cool J,
Arab on Radar,
Jandek,
Cecil Taylor,
Wire,
X-101,
The Doors,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fad Gadget,
Sandy B,
The Fortunes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Public Image Ltd.,
Carl Craig,
Lyres,
Rakim,
Suburban Knight,
Brand Nubian,
Blake Baxter,
Roger Hodgson,
H. Thieme,
Henry Cow,
Sixth Finger,
Buzzcocks,
Hasil Adkins,
The Modern Lovers,
Crash Course in Science,
June of 44,
Scan 7,
Nation of Ulysses,
Surgeon,
Sun Ra,
Tomorrow,
Depeche Mode,
Kurtis Blow,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ten City,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.