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 Korea South and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the electroclash 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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Matthew Halsall,
Rod Modell,
Mr. Review,
The Monks,
Gong,
Matthew Bourne,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Busters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Angry Samoans,
Circle Jerks,
Blancmange,
Albert Ayler,
The Victims,
Jandek,
Monks,
Stiv Bators,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Y Pants,
Chris & Cosey,
Dave Gahan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Infiniti,
Jacob Miller,
Man Parrish,
Wolf Eyes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Popol Vuh,
The Fall,
Nico,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Cure,
Von Mondo,
Electric Prunes,
The Move,
The Young Rascals,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Parry Music,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Moleskins,
The Sonics,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Oneida,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Slits,
The Birthday Party,
Moss Icon,
Adolescents,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nas,
Japan,
Easy Going,
Can,
Dennis Brown,
Lyres,
The Grass Roots,
Marcia Griffiths,
Aural Exciters,
The Modern Lovers,
Fatback Band,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.