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 the UAE and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
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 spring reverb 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 Sister Nancy to the disco 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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Chocolate Watch Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Yellowson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dawn Penn,
The Sonics,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ronan,
Animal Collective,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kerri Chandler,
Subhumans,
Shuggie Otis,
T.S.O.L.,
Average White Band,
Joe Finger,
Chrome,
Blake Baxter,
Black Pus,
Bootsy Collins,
Neil Young,
The United States of America,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sandy B,
Jeff Mills,
The Martian,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Moon,
Suicide,
Laurel Aitken,
Franke,
Deadbeat,
Man Parrish,
Echospace,
Panda Bear,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kurtis Blow,
Bang On A Can,
Big Daddy Kane,
Massinfluence,
The Motions,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Colin Newman,
Zapp,
The Offenders,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Red Krayola,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Bar-Kays,
Japan,
Darondo,
DJ Sneak,
World's Most,
Cluster,
Underground Resistance,
The Young Rascals,
Warren Ellis,
Lou Christie,
Eric Copeland,
Country Teasers,
The Birthday Party,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.