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 Malawi 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Sunsets and Hearts to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lyres,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fort Wilson Riot,
R.M.O.,
Gang Starr,
The Knickerbockers,
Peter & Gordon,
Funkadelic,
Jeff Lynne,
Michelle Simonal,
X-101,
Traffic Nightmare,
Television,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Dark Day,
Peter and Kerry,
Public Enemy,
New Order,
Con Funk Shun,
Von Mondo,
The Offenders,
Vainqueur,
Roy Ayers,
Fear,
The Move,
The Modern Lovers,
The Cowsills,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bang On A Can,
Byron Stingily,
Tim Buckley,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Andrew Hill,
X-Ray Spex,
Howard Jones,
Suicide,
Ituana,
Au Pairs,
The Skatalites,
The Count Five,
the Germs,
Lakeside,
Ultra Naté,
Hashim,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Moby Grape,
Chris & Cosey,
The Vogues,
Bill Wells,
Underground Resistance,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
F. McDonald,
FM Einheit,
Black Bananas,
Rod Modell,
Youth Brigade,
The Sonics,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.