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 Cuba 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Lou Reed 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Japan. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Neon Judgement record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Supertramp,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mr. Review,
Thee Headcoats,
Stetsasonic,
The Residents,
Tim Buckley,
Deepchord,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rufus Thomas,
Desert Stars,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Leaves,
The Fugs,
Grauzone,
The Index,
The Skatalites,
Symarip,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Shoche,
R.M.O.,
T. Rex,
Josef K,
The Remains,
Inner City,
Gil Scott Heron,
Harmonia,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mars,
The Monochrome Set,
The Mummies,
Yazoo,
Tubeway Army,
Dawn Penn,
The Last Poets,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Radio Birdman,
Dual Sessions,
Idris Muhammad,
The Trojans,
Theoretical Girls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Icehouse,
Television,
Judy Mowatt,
Minutemen,
Jandek,
Massinfluence,
The Young Rascals,
Ornette Coleman,
Ludus,
The American Breed,
Lyres,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Associates,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Moon,
Black Bananas,
U.S. Maple,
Echospace,
Lou Reed,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.