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 Nicaragua and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Mad Mike,
The Selecter,
H. Thieme,
Guru Guru,
John Foxx,
The Fortunes,
cv313,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Association,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Man Parrish,
JFA,
Japan,
Shuggie Otis,
Oblivians,
Ralphi Rosario,
Make Up,
The Raincoats,
Television,
Kevin Saunderson,
Tom Boy,
Dennis Brown,
The Slits,
Dual Sessions,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bronski Beat,
Slave,
Prince Buster,
The Smoke,
Lucky Dragons,
Bizarre Inc.,
Arab on Radar,
Bush Tetras,
ABBA,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Bananas,
Barclay James Harvest,
ABC,
Fat Boys,
The Modern Lovers,
Deadbeat,
The Stooges,
June Days,
Sun City Girls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Buckinghams,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Sonics,
Ornette Coleman,
Big Daddy Kane,
Main Source,
Desert Stars,
The Dead C,
Vladislav Delay,
Morten Harket,
Tears for Fears,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Robert Hood,
Khruangbin,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.