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 Kiribati and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Music Machine to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
The Kinks,
The Searchers,
Michelle Simonal,
Glenn Branca,
Steve Hackett,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eve St. Jones,
The Electric Prunes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Patti Smith,
Second Layer,
Stiv Bators,
Main Source,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Shoche,
Nas,
The Associates,
Zero Boys,
Alphaville,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sun City Girls,
The Mummies,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Faust,
Supertramp,
Liliput,
The Beau Brummels,
Fear,
Rufus Thomas,
Roxy Music,
Andrew Hill,
Von Mondo,
Fugazi,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Henry Cow,
Banda Bassotti,
Rosa Yemen,
The Birthday Party,
Gabor Szabo,
The Moody Blues,
Sparks,
Skaos,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Residents,
The Golliwogs,
June of 44,
Oneida,
Swans,
Robert Wyatt,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fortunes,
a-ha,
Aaron Thompson,
Kenny Larkin,
Arcadia,
Moss Icon,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.