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 Switzerland and from Cairo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Pharoah Sanders to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Colin Newman,
The Kinks,
The Dirtbombs,
Pussy Galore,
Pierre Henry,
Bronski Beat,
48th St. Collective,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Offenders,
Scan 7,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Camberwell Now,
Unrelated Segments,
Gil Scott Heron,
Oneida,
Unwound,
Dual Sessions,
Dawn Penn,
Dave Gahan,
Country Teasers,
KRS-One,
The Invisible,
The Tremeloes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Fania All-Stars,
FM Einheit,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Henry Cow,
Fatback Band,
Masters at Work,
Crooked Eye,
Audionom,
Monolake,
Neu!,
The Cowsills,
Radio Birdman,
Half Japanese,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Juan Atkins,
Monks,
Goldenarms,
Swell Maps,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Modern Lovers,
Bang On A Can,
Bobby Byrd,
Livin' Joy,
X-Ray Spex,
Urselle,
MDC,
Trumans Water,
Excepter,
Sarah Menescal,
Arthur Verocai,
The Standells,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Agitation Free,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.