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 Burkina and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Harpers Bizarre to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Lou Christie,
The Fuzztones,
Eden Ahbez,
The Moody Blues,
Ultravox,
Easy Going,
Monks,
Lungfish,
Pylon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tommy Roe,
Youth Brigade,
Roxy Music,
Newcleus,
Lightning Bolt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mad Mike,
Bluetip,
Marmalade,
Gang of Four,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Leonard Cohen,
Ice-T,
Television,
Dave Gahan,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Dirtbombs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Henry Cow,
Ken Boothe,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Golliwogs,
the Soft Cell,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bizarre Inc.,
David Axelrod,
Cheater Slicks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ornette Coleman,
Pantytec,
AZ,
Scientists,
F. McDonald,
Jacques Brel,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Alice Coltrane,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Severed Heads,
Moby Grape,
Sun Ra,
Lyres,
Amazonics,
Rekid,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Aswad,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Offenders,
Chrome,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.