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 Laos and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 James Chance & The Contortions 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
ABC,
The Busters,
Lee Hazlewood,
In Retrospect,
Crispian St. Peters,
Porter Ricks,
Japan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Supertramp,
Cameo,
Stockholm Monsters,
X-Ray Spex,
Audionom,
Pere Ubu,
Talk Talk,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tubeway Army,
Rufus Thomas,
Laurel Aitken,
Bang On A Can,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Real Kids,
The Music Machine,
Sister Nancy,
Skaos,
The Remains,
Spandau Ballet,
New Order,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Germs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
PIL,
Rod Modell,
Eli Mardock,
Chrome,
The Moleskins,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pole,
Simply Red,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Soft Cell,
The Motions,
K-Klass,
Wasted Youth,
Marine Girls,
Don Cherry,
Camberwell Now,
Minny Pops,
Wings,
Pulsallama,
UT,
Organ,
The Litter,
the Normal,
Roxette,
Goldenarms,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Juan Atkins,
The Red Krayola,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.