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 Iraq and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 chamberlin 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 The Count Five to the funk 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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
kango's stein massive,
Henry Cow,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Moon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scion,
Dark Day,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Birthday Party,
Slick Rick,
Circle Jerks,
Nico,
the Bar-Kays,
Pylon,
The Zeros,
The Vogues,
Mars,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Index,
Technova,
Crime,
Moebius,
Wire,
Intrusion,
The Five Americans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Radio Birdman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Skarface,
Cheater Slicks,
Marine Girls,
Amazonics,
Mission of Burma,
Joe Finger,
The Golliwogs,
The American Breed,
Babytalk,
The Misunderstood,
Marshall Jefferson,
Stereo Dub,
The Tremeloes,
Tres Demented,
Vainqueur,
Yusef Lateef,
Wings,
Khruangbin,
Ken Boothe,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kevin Saunderson,
Marmalade,
Mo-Dettes,
Donald Byrd,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Remains,
Funky Four + One,
Rod Modell,
The Fuzztones,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Susan Cadogan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.