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 Tehran.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Red Krayola to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Lalo Schifrin,
Davy DMX,
Quantec,
One Last Wish,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rosa Yemen,
Ponytail,
Girls At Our Best!,
Boogie Down Productions,
Q and Not U,
The Names,
Monks,
Gang Starr,
Minny Pops,
The Divine Comedy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Los Fastidios,
The Blackbyrds,
Rakim,
The Beau Brummels,
Visage,
Junior Murvin,
Black Moon,
June Days,
Radio Birdman,
Pole,
Pussy Galore,
Stetsasonic,
Con Funk Shun,
Moby Grape,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Human League,
Ralphi Rosario,
Y Pants,
Godley & Creme,
The Smoke,
Sex Pistols,
Audionom,
Josef K,
Lower 48,
Hoover,
Inner City,
F. McDonald,
Sugar Minott,
Eric Copeland,
Gichy Dan,
Todd Terry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Brothers Johnson,
Outsiders,
The United States of America,
Cameo,
MC5,
Ituana,
The Offenders,
48th St. Collective,
X-Ray Spex,
Scrapy,
Groovy Waters,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.